Synchronicity
by TheJoshuaTree87
Summary: A collection of one-shots, episodes and short stories about Virion, Tharja and their daughter, Noire.
1. Tea in the Sahara

With his index finger wrapped tightly around the handle of the cup and his pinkie extended outwards, the Duke of Rosanne winked playfully for the woman opposite to him and brought the warm beverage to his lips. After sighing contently, Virion wiped his mouth politely with a serviette before smiling courteously.

"I've noticed you've been rather occupied lately. Have you discovered anything exciting while conducting your research?"

Cradling her own cup of tea with both hands, Tharja raised the beverage and took a small sip, her fingers drumming absentmindedly on the surface.

"I've made some progress of sorts, but without a suitable test subject I suspect I won't be able to continue further."

Virion adopted his typical devilish smile. "I hope you understand, my love - that for the purpose of research I am more than willing to participate in any sort of experiment or procedure you wish to conduct. I am always here if you need me."

Unamused, Tharja averted her eyes. "Yes, _very_ clever. We've already established you're immune to my curses so performing on you would yield no desirable results."

Discouraged to witness her despondent expression, Virion returned to speak sincerely. "I may not be of assistance for this particular situation but should you ever require my services, you need but ask."

Tharja's stoic expression softened, and she smiled weakly.

With a courteous smile, Virion raised his cup of tea and acknowledged her with an affirmative nod. Tharja returned the gesture and brought her cup to her lips before gently placing it back down, her eyes still affixed away from his.

After taking another sip, Virion sighed contently and returned to admiring the dark mage before him. Before he could inquire any further, the dark mage exhaled despondently.

"Is something the matter?"

Tharja returned her eyes, visibly conflicted. "I'm fine, thank you."

Virion didn't need to possess a tactical mind to determine something was troubling her. Venturing as to what it could be, Virion sighed remorsefully. "I think understand."

Tharja was concerned to see that the usually charismatic man had developed an apologetic expression.

"Please, Tharja, I assure you my actions were no more than a playful ruse, and I never meant to cause any offence or discomfort. At no point was I ever trying to humiliate you."

Tharja grasped the surface of her cup tightly.

"But still" he began seriously, "that does not excuse my appalling behaviour. Even if it was in jest, my performance was still impolite and rude. I was deceitful and dishonest, and you never deserved to be subjected to that kind of audacious mockery."

Stirring uncomfortably in her seat, Tharja whispered softly. "I wasn't talking about _that."_

"Sorry?"

" _That._ I wasn't talking about your charades." She averted her eyes once more.

"Then _what_ , if you wouldn't mind me asking?"

Tharja raised her cup to avoid speaking. With the gentleman's persistent concerned expression, Tharja wiped her mouth with her serviette. "I don't…look, I don't know what I was trying to say. Can we please just drop it?"

The dark mage's demeanor was causing Virion a great deal of concern. He was more than prepared to accept responsibility for whatever injustice he may have done, but she had asked for his understanding, and he respected her request.

"My deepest apologies for being so intrusive. I understand this must be quite difficult for you, so I won't pester you any further." He retrieved his cup. "But with that said, I'm deeply sorry for whatever I may have done to upset you. I may not be able to justify my actions, but I assure you, offending you was not my intention."

An unusual sensation of remorse and guilt began to envelop Tharja, thoroughly displeased with herself for insinuating she was upset with him when, in truth, she knew she had no reason to be.

"You haven't done anything wrong. I'm just…", she stirred uncomfortably, "I'm just confused."

Virion adopted a comforting smile and extended his hand across the table in hopes that the she will accept his gesture.

"Would milady feel comfortable sharing her concern with me?"

Tharja returned her attention to him with a conflicted expression, evident by her furrowed eyebrows and darkened cheeks. The dark mage exhaled deeply. "I just…I don't understand why you chose _me."_

"Sorry? I don't quite follow."

"You _know_ what I mean" she retorted. "It's just…why _me_? Why did you pick _me_? Of all the women in this kingdom and you settle for _me_? why?"

Virion felt his heart sink upon hearing Tharja's hurtful accusation.

"Tharja, please. It wounds me to see you so -"

"You haven't answered my question."

The charismatic social butterfly was at a loss for words. It wasn't the first time the woman had tried to scrutinise him for his affections towards her - each time he had reassured her that his feelings were pure – but that particular episode was the first time she had approached him about ever since they'd united, and Virion knew he had set things right.

Pulling himself closer to the table, Virion spoke sincerely.

"I understand your concerns, and you have every right to be suspicious of my proclamations. Even with the time we have spent together, we still aren't acquainted terribly well with another, and our glaring dissimilarities only reinforce the notion. But I promise you: I am _not_ settling for second-best, any available port in the storm or any other sort of appalling relegation."

Tharja listened attentively - curious and desperate to hear what he had to say.

"I love you, Tharja, and I promise you that I shall never leave your side; not until the final breath is sucked from my being. You may think yourself but an unpleasant, undeserving individual, but that isn't who _I_ see. Even with the reprehensible slaughter and bloodshed surrounding us - when lesser beings care for none save their own-self-preservation - in between the tides of war and conflict you've always put others' safety and well-being before your own, and that is quality you mustn't ever feel you need to disguise, because beneath your exterior is the most wonderfully talented, caring, compassionate and beautiful woman to ever grace the Earth, and someone I would cordially dedicate my life to, because she deserves it more than anyone else I have ever met."

Tharja brought a hand to her burning cheek. Staring breathlessly at the man before, Tharja couldn't even begin to process what he had just been professed.

"Do you really mean that?"

Virion adopted a passionate smile and nodded. "I've made a commitment to protect you, Tharja, just as you have done for others, and I don't ever intend on abandoning that oath."

Rather than return his beautiful gesture, Tharja experienced difficulty trying to express her inner emotions into words.

"No one's ever said anything like that about me before."

Extending her hand across the table, Tharja tentatively placed hers over her husband's and smiled appreciatively, her face still burning passionately. "…I love you too. I've never met someone quite like you ever before, and I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me."

With a warm, comforting smile, Virion acknowledged. "I can assure you, my blossom, it was my inestimable pleasure."

Grasping the cup of tea in his hand, he extended it into the air. "To us", he toasted before taking another sip.

Scoffing playfully with a roll of her eyes, Tharja begrudgingly raised her cup as well.


	2. King of Pain

When the Prince of Ylisse received word that one of the army's patrol squads was ambushed by unknown assailants, the sudden report spread throughout the barracks like a wildfire.

Thankfully, for the soldiers ambushed, the mysterious attackers were either very inexperienced or unprepared as the patrol squadron managed to defend against their aggressors and drive them away with no casualties. Unfortunately, they didn't emerge from the ambush without injuries sustained.

Everyone in the army was alarmed to hear that Virion had sustained an injury in an effort to shield another soldier. No one was more devastated than Tharja, however.

* * *

Making her way through the bustling aisles of tents, the anxious and overwhelmed dark mage hastily approached the entrance to the medical bay, her mind plagued with unpleasant and horrifying thoughts surrounding her husband and the condition he was in.

Without hesitation, Tharja desperately swung the door open to the nursing room. Upon entering the room, Tharja was startled with what she saw. Although she had tried her best to prepare herself for the worst, the dark mage observed her husband as he clutched a stained cloth against his shoulder. Rather than an appearance of pain or discomfort, Virion greeted her with a courteous smile.

"Ah, just what the doctor prescribed: a gentle nursing from the one I love."

Tharja was shocked to see the man she was so frightened for speaking with his usual cynical attitude. His casual demeanor made the woman clench her fists as her flustered emotions started to overwhelm her.

"You…you fool, you stupid fool! Don't you ever do something like that again!"

Breathing heavily, Tharja's eyes widened slowly as she processed her unexpected outburst. Rather than respond, Tharja observed as Virion's enlightened expression softened into that of faint remorse. The archer's gaze was fixated on something behind the woman, prompting Tharja to inspect. Standing behind her was the young princess, Lissa, holding a roll of bandage cloths, her face red with embarrassment.

Tharja, flustered and overwhelmed, developed a scowl. "Leave! Now!"

Lissa didn't need to be told twice and placed the bandages down before frantically making her way back to the entrance.

"Many thanks, milady" announced Virion before she exited, "your support has been impeccable."

Upon hearing the faint creak of the door's hinges as the young princess shut it behind her, Tharja returned her attention to her husband as he smiled weakly for her, his typical narcissism still present despite the situation.

"Would you mind refraining from raising your voice? My body is still rather sore, and I'd very much-"

Tharja wasn't amused. "What in God's name were you thinking? Why on Earth would you do _that_?"

Virion raised his hand defensibly. "My dear, please, I understand your concern-"

"No, you _don't_ " interjected Tharja with an anguished expression. "Ever since we received word of the attack, I have spent the past afternoon holding my breath in fear, terrified of what might have happened to you."

"My love, if you would allow me to explain myself-"

Tharja shook her head angrily, a layer of mist developing under her eyelids. "Why do you this? Why do you persist on performing these…these foolish acts of misguided heroism? Don't you understand what could happen?"

Virion adopted a serious expression. "My actions aren't misguided" he protested, "I'm simply doing what needs to be done in order to protect those around me."

Staring incredulously at her husband, Tharja scoffed with disbelief. "So _that's_ what this about? This is about redemption, about trying to make up for what should be forgotten in the past?"

"This isn't about…"

He stopped abruptly, prompting Tharja's serious expression to dissolve into one of regret as she observed the archer avert his eyes and exhale deeply, returning to gently rubbing his bloodied shoulder with his cloth.

Upon reflecting on her outburst, Tharja sighed remorsefully, realising she had overstepped her boundaries.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, "that was…I didn't mean to…"

Returning their gaze to one another, Virion smiled weakly for her and waved his hand dismissively. "There's no need for apologies" he reassured her, "because you're right." He sighed with defeat. "Perhaps I am seeking redemption for my past injustices."

" _That_ wasn't your fault" she stated softly, "you shouldn't blame yourself. You can't be held accountable for what happened."

Virion stirred uncomfortably. "Can't I?" The archer sighed despondently. "As the Duke of Rosanne, it was my charge and responsibility to protect the citizens of the kingdom, and during that cataclysmic event the brave men and women who pledged their lives to defend our country, every last one of them turned to me for guidance and leadership. I promised them their safety and survival… but I didn't."

Exchanging desperate glances between the ground and her mourning husband, Tharja experienced a great deal of sadness and discomfort while listening to the man's sorrowful reflection, disappointed in herself for stirring up painful memories.

"Hundreds upon thousands of lives were lost that day: those who stood against the attackers who wished to conquer us…and countless innocents caught in the conflict. Instead of standing with those who trusted me to defend our beautiful land, I abandoned my commitment", he hesitated for a moment, "and there has not been a single day since where I have not been haunted by my actions."

The two exchanged a sorrowful expression between one another. " _This_ is why I have dedicated myself to the protection of others. I mightn't be able to change the past but I can take charge to influence events yet to come, and if it means I must give my life in exchange for their salvation of an others'…then that's a sacrifice I am more than prepared to accept." He smiled weakly. "My life is meaningless unless devoted to the protection of those I hold dear."

Upon the conclusion of his poignant profession, Tharja felt her heart ache with pain and anguish, shocked and disheartened to hear what her husband had just confessed.

"How could you say something like that?" She asked him breathlessly. "A-after everything…after everything you and I have been through together", she swallowed anxiously, " _how_ can you look _me_ in the eye and tell me your life has no purpose?"

Virion's expression mirrored his wife's as he averted his eyes with remorse. "I don't expect you to understand-"

"Oh, _I_ understand" interjected Tharja, "I understand better than anyone else. It's _you_ that's misinformed."

"Tharja, my love-"

"So you don't think your existence has meaning? So you don't think the countless citizens of the kingdom admire and appreciate you and everything you've done for them?" She struggled to choke out her next accusation. "S-so…you don't think…you don't think our love is enough of a reason for you to continue to walk this Earth…because if I am so insignificant and unimportant…then why in the Lord's name did you marry me if your life is as meaningless as you proclaim?"

The dark mage exhaled sorrowfully, her pain and heartache audible in her voice. " _You_ might not think your existence has meaning…but _you_ mean everything to _me_."

Virion could only stare with repent and remorse, loathing himself for ever insinuating that his wife, the woman he loved more than anything, wasn't important, because she was; above everything else in his life - personal and professional - Tharja was, and forever would be, his biggest and most critical responsibility.

"Tharja-"

Hesitantly, the archer tried to bring himself to his feet but an unbearable stinging sensation pierced his shoulder, prompting the man to wince in pain and discomfort. After witnessing the pain her husband was experiencing, Tharja's anguished expression disappeared.

Approaching him, Tharja gently placed her hand on his uninjured shoulder and gestured for him to sit down once more.

"You haven't fully recovered from your injury yet." She announced seriously but developed a weak smile. "Please."

Acknowledging her request, Virion smiled appreciatively and returned to sitting on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, Tharja retrieved the bandaging cloths Lissa had brought for her patient, untangled the roll and approached her husband. With another weak smile, Tharja gestured towards the injury and looked to Virion for permission. Nodding once more, the archer shifted on the bed to allow her a spot to sit. After taking a position beside him, Tharja got to work on properly bandaging his wound.

With his shoulder attended to, Virion shifted his arm to determine if it felt comfortable. Thoroughly satisfied with his wife's services, the archer turned to her with his typical smirk.

"I venture my abilities have been rendered ineffective for several days, no? Goodness, how on Earth will the Shepherd's manage without the finest archer to ever grace the land supporting them on the battlefield?"

Tharja scoffed softly. "I'm sure we'll survive."

With some difficulty, Virion removed the cloth from his shoulder to carefully extend his arm and gently wrap it around her waist, pulling the two of them closer together. Exchanging a glance between his arm and then into his eyes, Tharja smiled weakly and nestled closer into his embrace.


	3. Roxanne

Tharja traced her finger down the page in concentration to make sure she was following the procedure correctly for the ritual she wished to perform.

For the duration of the afternoon in her workstation, she had spent the time contently, quiet and undisturbed with the only noise being the sounds of her soft, rhythmic breathing. That was, until the sound of her personal tent being opened.

Inspecting the noise's origin, Tharja watched as her husband set foot into inside with his typical flamboyancy and grace, and a tray of assorted snacks. Virion approached her desk and bowed politely.

"What are you doing?" The dark mage folded her arms.

"Oh, heavens. Please forgive me for appearing unannounced. I hope you don't mind, my love, but I've prepared you a small selection of nibbles and treats - a sort of early meal before tea – and I would be most delighted if you would accept it."

Tharja exchanged a conflicted glance between the tray of food and her expectant husband. "This wasn't necessary. I'm not hungry."

Virion acknowledged. "Well, no, perhaps not, but you _do_ require energy, and I would encourage you to take just a small break. I understand how important your research is, and I'll respect your decision, but I'd hate you for you to exhaust yourself."

Tharja's tense posture softened upon seeing his comforting expression. Sighing softly, Tharja closed the book. "Very well."

"Excellent. Where shall I place this?"

After examining desk, Tharja began to collect some of the loose items scattered across the bench to clear a spot. Virion gently placed the tray down.

Pulling her chair inward, retrieved one of the buttered scones and slowly brought it to her mouth. Although she had been working efficiently and productively, it was only when she stopped did she realise just how hungry she was.

She gestured towards the table. "Aren't you going to take a seat?"

Virion brought a hand to his chest. "Who? Me? Well, if milady insists then I would be most delighted to accompany her."

After retrieving another chair, Virion seated himself beside her, smiling courteously.

With a begrudging smile, Tharja returned the gesture. "Thank you. I very much appreciate this."

Virion waved his hand dismissively. "It was no effort at all."

Tharja's notorious smirk returned. "Evidently, you didn't even bring me something to drink."

Inspecting the tray intently, Virion sighed with defeat. "Yes, well, I suppose there are always still areas for improvement."

* * *

While Virion relished in the content serenity he shared with his wife, Tharja still harboured remorse for her actions, and continued to reflect on the events of the day of her husband's injury, ashamed for her actions.

"I don't recall ever apologising for how I treated you those weeks ago."

With a reassuring smile, Virion laughed dismissively. "Please, there's no need for apologies. That little endeavor is but a memory in the past."

Tharja exhaled with exasperation. " _No..._ "

She struggled to express the appropriate words. "I'm sorry for raising my voice. I don't want you to think I'm upset with you, because I'm not…it's just…"

Virion gently squeezed her hand supportively.

"I completely understand why you feel you need to perform these acts of heroism, and I truly admire that about you. But with every adversary you throw yourself before - when you emerge with a mutilated body - I'm always left fearful that the next time you might not return at all."

Virion nodded understandingly. "I see. I was unaware you felt this way."

"I don't want to you to believe you need to compromise your morals for my sake – what you've done for the members of the army is incredible, and your efforts haven't gone unappreciated – but…", she hesitated, "but I don't want you to…"

Tharja exhaled with exhaustion. "Gods, I must sound so selfish."

"That isn't a self-centered desire. You have every right to be concerned, and I apologise for tormenting you so." He sighed sorrowfully. "I thought I was doing what was best for our allies."

"You _are_ " protested Tharja, "I just wish you wouldn't…"

She closed her eyes. "When you proposed to me, and on the day of our marriage, you swore an oath to me. Do you remember what it was?"

Virion reflected before answering. "Yes. I promised you that I shall never sacrifice my life in exchange for another's."

Tharja stared at her husband expectantly. Virion nodded understandingly.

"I just really wish you wouldn't consider throwing your life away so carelessly. You might think your sacrifice inconsequential, but I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you."

Virion carefully wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling them closer together.

"Please" she whispered, "promise me you'll be careful. I don't want you to abandon your commitment to the protection of others…but I don't want to lose you either."

Tharja was greeted with a sympathetic expression from Virion, a weak smile on his lips.

"I promise. Forgive me for being so foolish and insensitive. I've been so distracted by my actions – carelessly endangering my own life – that'd I'd lost sight of what is _really_ important to me: you."

A thrill of excitement raised down her spine when she observed her husband shut his eyes and lean in closer. Tharja returned the kiss with love and passion.

After their embrace, Virion sighed with content while Tharja returned to folding her hands tightly in her lap. The archer observed his wife's mannerisms curiously; it almost as if she was hiding something.

"Besides" she continued, "I'm not sure I'd be able to survive without you. I'm ill-equipped to raise a child on my own."

Virion raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? I don't quite follow."

"I said 'I don't have what it takes to raise a child by myself."

"Why on Earth do consider that prospect?"

The man tried desperately to process what his wife was insinuating…and then it suddenly dawned on him.

"Heavens above, you don't mean…?"

Tharja nodded. "Yes. I'm...expecting."

Virion stared in disbelief. "Are you… certain?"

"I was informed when I was summoned for a medical examination, and that was a month ago. I would have told you earlier...but I was fearful for how you would react."

Ecstatic, Virion grasped her hand. "How I'd react? My love, this is astonishing. This is a miracle!" His familiar sly smile returned. "Good heavens, I shall be a father. You wouldn't happen to know our child's gender, perchance?"

"It's a girl."

Suddenly, Virion rose, prompting her to be pulled her to her feet as well. Tharja could only watch in disbelief from her husband's theatrics.

Gently placing his hand under her chin, Tharja gazed breathlessly into his eyes; she could even observe a trace of mist.

"Tharja, this is the most incredible blessing I've ever been graced with. Lord above, it feels like a thousand passionate fires are desperate to erupt from my chest. This is…wonderful!" He laughed softly as he pulled her closer, "we're going to have a daughter. We will be blessed with a beautiful child." He whispered sincerely. "We shall be a family."

Overwhelmed to hear that her husband reciprocated her sentiments, Tharja nestled closer into his embrace and gently placed a hand on his chest. Closing her eyes with content, Tharja brought her lips to his with intense passion, and he didn't hesitate to return the embrace.


	4. The Bed's Too Big Without You

Just as the two parents had managed to drift off to sleep, Virion and Tharja were awoken from their slumber by an unusual noise: what sounded like small feet sprinting across their hardwood floor, escalating louder and louder. The sound ceased abruptly as it approached the outside of their door.

Stirring awake from their comfortable dormancy, the two adults tried to dispel the lingering paralysis from their bodies, listening as the door to their bedroom slowly creaked open. Virion and Tharja observed groggily as a small figure emerged from the door, frantically shut the door behind it and hastily closed the distance between the door and their bed, the only feature noticeable for the adults being a blur of azure-blue.

As the small figure approached the foot of their bed, it buried itself beneath their sheets before crawling towards them, its trembling breathing audible. Upon reaching their positions in the bed, the small figure snuggled itself up to Tharja, clutching the dark mage desperately for protection.

Still fatigued and sleep-deprived, the two adults exchanged a glance between one another, Virion smiling with amusement while Tharja sighed with exhaustion. Adopting a sympathetic expression, she slowly lifted the bedsheets to inspect their unannounced visitor.

Trembling and quivering anxiously, their three year old daughter, Noire, looked up at her startled parents with bright red cheeks and fearful expression before averting her eyes and clinging to her mother's torso tighter, her usually straight hair tangled and matted.

Tharja returned her attention to Virion with a stoic expression, and Virion returned with a courteous smile. The dark mage scoffed silently.

It was the man's suggestion for their daughter to try sleeping in her own room for once, and although both Tharja and Noire had objected to the arrangement, they eventually complied despite reluctance. However, no sooner than when they had put her to bed in her own room were the two parents treated to a surprise appearance from the young girl who continued to tremble and whimper softly.

Feeling Noire's fingers sink deeper and deeper into her skin causing her slight discomfort, Tharja looked to her husband for support. Virion acknowledged with a smile as he inched himself closer to his wife and their child.

Gently caressing his hand on the back of their daughter's neck, both Virion and Tharja were relieved to feel the young girl's tense body soften from his touch.

Virion smiled softly. "Dear, is something the matter?"

The two adults observed as their daughter slowly released herself from her mother and rolled onto her back, her hands now clutching the bedsheets tightly for protection as she pulled them to her chin. With fearful eyes, Noire nodded her head softly.

Turning over onto his side so he could properly face her, Virion carefully removed the bedsheet she was clutching, and after some resistance Noire allowed her parents to see her flustered, embarrassed expression as she recoiled with fear.

Her father inquired further politely. "Did you have trouble sleeping tonight?"

After exchanging a worried glance between her two parents, Noire wrapped her arms around her torso, and nodded once more.

Concerned, Tharja looked towards her husband for reassurance on what to do but Virion smiled understandingly and gestured towards Noire, encouraging the dark mage to take the next approach. With some trepidation, Tharja spoke.

"…Did something happen while you were sleeping, Noire?" She looked back to Virion and he relieved her with a reassuring smile.

The sound of faint sobbing became audible. With misty eyes, Noire slowly gazed up to Tharja with a tearful expression.

"…I…I h-had a bad dr-dream", she whispered quietly.

Sighing softly, Tharja offered her hand. Sniffling sorrowfully, Noire accepted the embrace wholesomely as she silently wept into her mother's chest. While she was alarmed at first from the reaction, Tharja gently placed her hand over the young girl's back and rubbed her gently, trying to ease and comfort her. Virion could only smile with delight and content from his wife's actions.

After a few moments of comforting support, Tharja eventually released her daughter from the embrace and Noire reluctantly returned to kneeling in between her parents. Although they didn't want to pry, both Virion and Tharja shared the same consensus about supporting their child, and tried to politely inquire about the contents of the dream.

Extending his hand towards her, Noire grasped her father's hand tightly for comfort.

"Do you want to talk about your dream?"

Visibly shrinking from the prospect, Noire hung her head and shook it softly as she brought her father's hand to her chest. With some difficulty, she managed to choke out a response before stuttering with more tears. "…I-it wa-was really…scary."

Virion pulled the young girl closer to her as she resumed crying one again. "Oh, come here, my dear, everything is alright now; you're safe." Noire clutched her father's clothing tightly for reassurance.

Tharja hadn't realised she had been watching her family intently until Virion returned his attention to her with a optimistic smile, causing the dark mage to avert her eyes with embarrassment, an unusual feeling of jealousy developing in her heart from witnessing her husband communicate so well with their daughter. However, out of the corner, Tharja observed as Virion extended his hand and gestured her to join him. With some reluctance, she swallowed anxiously and inched herself closer, smiling weakly for her husband.

With their young daughter still trembling against the archer's chest, Tharja gently placed her hand over Noire's back and rubbed softly. Almost immediately, to the parents' relief, the young girl's bubbling and sobbing came to a cease as she released herself from her father and turned her to face her mother. Smiling sympathetically, Tharja brought a finger to her daughter's face and gently wiped her cheek, prompting Noire to reach for her mother's finger, holding it tightly for support.

Looking once more to her husband for reassurance, Virion nodded approvingly with a comforting smile. Before speaking to address their daughter again, Tharja cleared her throat softly and adopted a warm, inviting tone.

"Noire", she began quietly, catching the young girl's attention as she looked up to her mother with a worried expression, "do you want to sleep with us tonight?"

Before answering, Noire turned to her father and he greeted her with an encouraging smile and nod of his head, reaffirming her mother's proposal. Turning back to Tharja, Noire nodded weakly with a quiet whisper. "..Y-yes…please."

Seizing the moment, Virion removed one of his pillows from beneath him and placed it behind their daughter who gently laid her head down upon it, nuzzling closer to find a comfortable position. Virion and Tharja watched with content as the young girl wrapped her hands around the edge of her pillow as she slowly closed her eyes. After exchanging one final delighted and bashful smile, respectively, between each other, Virion and Tharja pulled the bedsheets over them once more, and drifted to sleep once more with their young daughter snuggled between them.


	5. Walking on the Moon (Part 1)

With the afternoon sun radiating down on her face, Noire eyes squinted in adjustment as she gazed up to her father with a curious expression. "…Where are we going?"

Virion looked down at his young daughter and smiled playfully with a wink of his eye. "I told you, my dear, it's a surprise."

The prospects of her father's answer made Noire's grip on his squeeze harder, eager as a small excited smile spread across her lips. "A-are we…almost there?"

Delighted to see his daughter so enraptured, Virion gently squeezed her hand and waved his index finger. "We are but a hop, skip and a jump away" he reassured, "aren't we, my blossom?"

Turning to address Tharja who kept pace beside him, the archer was discouraged to see the dark mage with her familiar conflicted expression, her arms folded as she continued to stare at the ground.

"I don't consent to this" she whispered.

With a hopeful smile, Virion placed his arm around her waist for an embrace, and whispered in her ear. "I can assure you, dear, she will do just fine."

Tharja wriggled herself from his arm, sighed remorsefully and averted her attention elsewhere.

After a few more minutes of eager anticipation, the young girl, still clutching her father's hand, reached the top of a grassy mound where her father gestured for to look down. Staring at the sight before her, Noire's eyes widened with delight.

It was a playground, and one much larger and more diverse than the ones she was accustomed to around her neighbourhood. Noire's eyes darted around frantically, eagerly observing each and every activity and attraction located around the area from the athletic bars to the elongated slides, her mind racing with excitement over the prospect of sharing the time playing with her parents.

Turning around and gazing up to her parents with an eager expression, Noire folded her hands over her waist. "...May I?"

Amused, Virion chuckled softly and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Of course, my love, this is why we're here", he answered jovially.

Turning to her mother for permission, the dark mage nodded weakly.

Resisting the urge to squeal, Noire excitedly retrieved her father's hand once more and made her way down the mound, her parents following close behind.

Arriving just outside the playground, Noire stopped to observe and absorb the environment around her. Despite her enthusiasm, a lingering feeling of fear and uncertainty was still present in her mind, the young girl feeling quite uncomfortable in the presence of other children her age, and it certainly didn't help that she was the only girl.

Although still nervous, Noire was relieved to discover, upon taking another observation, she wasn't the only girl – she was one of three. Noire watched curiously as a red-haired girl with long twin tails sat with who appeared to be her mother, a comb being run through her hair while she sat with her arms folded in discontent. Noire was then treated to the sound of ecstatic laughing as she watched the other girl, one with orange-pigtails, being chased by a group of boys, each of them carrying a foam sword as she ran in between them laughing hysterically.

Nuzzling against her father's leg for comfort, Noire gazed up to the man after hearing his voice.

"Dear", he began with charisma, "what do you want to play with first?"

Gazing back to the playground before, Noire noticed that a lot of the activities were already occupied with other children, and the young girl didn't feel comfortable participating with them. Eventually, Noire's eyes fell upon the empty sandbox in the corner, and she gestured towards it with her finger.

"Very well, then" announced Virion dramatically, "to the sandbox."

Releasing herself from his grasp, Noire began to make her way towards the unoccupied sandbox, but stopped with hesitation when she realised her parents weren't accompanying her. Visibly shrinking with fear, Noire hastily returned to them with a worried expression.

"…Are you going to p-play with me?"

Noire watched as her parents exchanged a concerned expression between one another, her father smiling supportively while her mother furrowed her eyebrows. The young girl waited anxiously before her father knelt down with a soft smile.

"Your mother and I are going to watch you from over here", he answered reassuringly. The archer gestured to a bench located several metres from the sandbox, a large tree eclipsing the sun standing over it. He sighed softly. "We're going to let you try playing with some of the other kids today."

Playing by herself or with anybody else besides her parents was a frightening prospect for Noire as she shook her head anxiously, terrified and reluctant to the arrangement.

Adopting a small smile, Tharja knelt down as well and caressed a strand of hair out of her daughter's eye. "You'll be alright, dear" she reassured, "we're going to be sitting right here if you need us."

Exchanging another frightened glance between them and the empty sandbox, Noire shook her head once more, strongly disapproving of their proposal.

"There's no need to worry" reassured Virion, "you're here to have fun, remember?"

Sniffling softly, Noire nodded her understandingly. Extending her arms out for an embrace, her parents gently wrapped their arms around her. Upon release, Virion gestured for her to approach the sandbox.

"Now" he began excitedly, "show your mother and I just how talented you are at making sandcastles."

A small smile developed on her lips. "O-ok…father" she whispered.

Exchanging once final apprehensive glance between her parents, the two adults smiled supportively. Relieved but still unsure, Noire bid them farewell and approached the sandbox.

Sighing contently, Virion extended his hand towards the bench and offered his wife a seat. With a conflicted expression, Tharja accepted his hand and sat down under the tree. Folding his leg over his knee, the charismatic archer placed his arm around Tharja's shoulder. After some hesitation, Tharja nestled in closer.

"I don't feel comfortable about this" confessed Tharja remorsefully.

Virion adopted a caring smile. "She'll be fine", he reassured.

Tharja turned her attention to him. "Will she? She can barely speak with us, let alone another child."

Sighing softly, Virion acknowledged his wife's concerns – doubts that he too shared – and tightened his embrace around her. "All she needs is a boost in confidence" he reassured her politely, "and I believe once she's experienced interacting with others, her communication skills will improve." He smiled encouragingly. "She just needs time."

Tharja stirred in her seat as her gaze migrated to the playground around them. "I don't trust these…children" she announced bitterly.

Her husband chuckled with amusement. "Dear, you don't trust anybody", he teased.

Tharja glared at him. "Excuse me? I trust _you_ , don't I?"

Tightening their embrace, Virion smiled supportively. "Then won't you please trust _in_ me? I do believe socialising with others her age would be very beneficial for her."

Lowering her gaze and exhaling with defeat, Tharja answered softly. "Very well, I _do_ trust you."

Planting a small kiss on her cheek, Virion relaxed on the bench. " _This_ is what's best for her."

Adopting a small smile, Tharja nodded understandingly. Another passionate kiss was exchanged between them, and the two adults returned their attention to their daughter, and observed her contently as she amused herself in the sandbox.


	6. Can't Stand Losing You (Part 2)

After constructing her third sandcastle, Noire smiled excitedly and retrieved another fallen leaf from outside the sandbox, inserting at the top of her newest creation. Without another moment's hesitation, Noire began construction on the next one, far too occupied with her activity to notice the small figure approaching the sandbox.

"Hey, who are you?"

The sudden voice made Noire's heart stop abruptly as she dropped the toy bucket from her hands to hastily address her visitor with a frightened, flustered expression. Overwhelmed, Noire stared breathlessly at the red-haired girl standing on the edge of the sandbox with her arms folded bashfully. Noire hadn't realised she had been staring until the young girl tilted her head in confusion.

"Um…hello?"

Equally confused and conflicted, Noire felt her apprehension and anxiety begin to overwhelm her, mind far too clouded with frightening thoughts to even process her visitor's words.

The young red-head stepped towards her. "Hey, are you OK?"

Under-prepared and overwhelmed, Noire selected the action she always pursued when she felt frightened or challenged: find her parents for their protection. And with that, Noire stood up and hastily retreated form the sandbox, leaving the other girl puzzled and confused.

Virion and Tharja watched the entire exchange with curious expressions, but were soon alarmed when they witnessed their young girl sprinting towards them with a frightened expression. The two parents stood up hastily when Noire approached them.

"Good heavens, Noire, what is wrong, dear?" Virion extended his arms as the young girl embraced him desperately.

Noire exchanged a look between them, and shook her head anxiously, visibly overwhelmed and confused.

Tharja, overreacting, exchanged a look of burning resentment towards the sandbox and back to her daughter. " _What did that girl say to you_!?" Tharja clenched her fists, prepared to approach the red-head for upsetting their daughter.

Frantically, Noire released her father and turned to her mother. "N-no, please, M-mother" protested Noire desperately, "I'm not…"

She struggled to finish her sentence which prompted Tharja to dispel her angered expression, and kneel down beside her husband.

"What happened?" Tharja, too, was concerned.

With an embarrassed expression, Noire shook her head anxiously. "I can't…", she whispered.

Virion gently placed his hand on her cheek. "You can't _what_ , dear?"

Overwhelmed, Noire buried her face into her hands and wept silently. "I want to go home", she whispered desperately.

Virion and Tharja, both equally frightened and concerned, exchanged a conflicted expression between one another, neither of them sure of what to do to comfort their daughter. Carefully, Virion removed the young girl's hands from her face, and smiled reassuringly for her. Noire averted her eyes in embarrassment.

"Did that girl surprise you, dear?"

Noire sniffled and nodded softly.

Abandoning her anger and scorn, Tharja offered her hand, and Noire hastily grabbed it for protection. "What did she say, Noire?"

Wiping her nose with her other hand, Noire caught her frantic breath. "…S-she said…'h-hello' to me…but then I…I got r-really scared and…"

Struggling to choke out her final words, she returned to sobbing silently. Desperately, Noire closed the distance between her and her mother, and held Tharja tightly for support.

Tharja, hesitant at first, gently rubbed the back of the young girl's head. "…It's alright, Noire" she reassured softly, "everything is alright. You did the right thing coming back to us - you made a strong choice."

Confused, Noire removed herself from her mother's embrace and exchanged a worried glance between her parents who greeted her with comforting smile. Virion gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, and exhaled softly.

"Do you want to try speaking with that girl again?"

Immediately, Noire's eyes widened with alarm as she shook her head violently.

"No, no, it's OK" reassured her father, "you aren't in trouble, dear, there's no need to be afraid."

Controlling her breathing, Noire turned her attention back to the sandbox where she was surprised to see the red-haired girl inserting more leaves into the sandcastles.

"See, dear? She's decorating your creations", he took her hand and shook it excitedly, "I venture she just wishes to play with you."

Noire watched as the dark mage observed the other girl with concentration. "She seems…sincere."

With her start still beating sporadically, Noire exchanged another glance between her parents and the girl in the sandbox. Although a part of her was still incredibly reluctant to return to the red-head, a warm, relieving feeling developed in her chest over the prospect of spending time with another child, an experience Noire wasn't very familiar with.

The young girl wiped her nose and smiled weakly. "OK."

Delighted, Virion wiped her forehead with his sleeve and any remaining tears from her cheeks. "There's no reason to be afraid, Noire, just be yourself, and don't forget to smile." He scratched underneath her chin, causing her to giggle again.

"…I'll be good, F-father."

She gazed towards her mother for affirmation. Although the girl could still observe a trace of uncertainty on the dark mage's face, Tharja nodded assertively. "…Be strong."

With uncertainty, she acknowledged her parents' request.

Virion gestured for her to return to the sandbox, gently pushing her with his hand. "You're more than welcome to try what we practiced at home."

Nodding anxiously, Noire sheepishly bid her parents farewell with her hand and began to make her way back. Upon approaching the outside of the sandbox, the redheaded girl hastily turned to address Noire with a confused expression.

"What did you do _that_ for?"

Noire felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "…I…" she stammered. Still apprehensive of her next action, Noire turned back to parents for reassurance. She was greeted with an excited, encouraging expression from her father and a confident nod from her mother.

Closing her eyes, she cleared her throat. "…H-hello" she began with a weak wave of her hand, "m-my name i-is…N-n-noire…and I-I am", she extended her fingers for emphasis, "…five years old."

The redhead blinked in confusion. "Um…OK", she responded hesitantly, "I'm…Severa."

With a gentle smile, Noire bowed her head politely. "It's very n-nice to meet you…Severa."

The newly identified redhead acknowledged with a small, amused smile. "…Rrrright" she answered, "so, why did you run off?"

Noire, embarrassed, hung her head in humiliation. "...I got scared."

"Scared? Why, 'cause of me?"

"…I don't know." Noire shrugged her shoulders bashfully.

With a fallen stick cradled in her hand, Severa began to absentmindedly draw lines in the sand. "…Well, I'm sorry if I _did -_ I just wanted to see if we could…", she hesitated, "play…together?"

Noire felt her heart beat excitedly from the girl's confession. "Oh, r-really?"

Severa disposed of the stick. "Yeah" she answered casually, "I saw you playing here by yourself…and 'cause I'm alone too I thought..."

Ecstatic over the prospect of playing with another child, Noire nodded her excitedly. "Y-yes, please."

Severa averted her eyes. "We don't have to you if you don't wanna..."

"N-no, p-please...I'd…like that."Anxiously, Noire shook her head.

Severa returned to Noire with a worried expression, gesturing towards one of her own sandcastles. "Do you like mine?"

"I-it's really good."

The red-head smiled bashfully. "Yeah, thanks", she shrugged her shoulders, "…so…did you wanna keep making more?"

Noire nodded eagerly.

As the two sat down, Severa retrieved the empty toy bucket and offered it to Noire who accepted it gratefully. Smiling gently, Noire placed the item down beside her and turned back to Severa with a hopeful expression, causing the other girl to tilt her head in confusion.

Before speaking, Noire took a deep breath. "Do you want to be…friends?"

Noire watched with disappointment in her heart as the red-head furrowed her eyebrows, visibly conflicted by the proposal. "…Friends?"

While she hadn't expected a direct answer, Noire was surprised to witness the red-head turn her head around frantically to concentrate on something, prompting Noire to follow. On the other side of the playground sat someone the woman from earlier - the older red-hair Noire assumed was Severa's mother. Noire observed curiously as the mother nodded her head encouragingly with an eager smile.

Noire sat quietly as Severa returned her attention to her with a stoic expression. The young girl stirred in her seat before answering.

"…Yes, please…".

Smiling excitedly as a thrill of exhilaration raced down her spine, Noire wriggled herself closer to the red-head and offered her the bucket. After some hesitation, Severa smiled bashfully and accepted the toy.

Noire folded her arms politely over her waist. "…I…I've never r-really had a friend before."

Severa developed a bashful smirk. "Yeah, same."


	7. Invisible Sun (Part 3)

Noire and Severa squealed with surprise as a sudden thumping noise emerged from behind them. There, behind them was the orange-haired girl from before, laying in the sandbox with her limbs extended outwards, her eyes closed and her tongue flopping out of her mouth comically.

Frightened, Noire exchanged a worried glance with Severa who returned with a confused, puzzled expression. Noire watched as Severa wriggled closer towards the collapsed girl but recoiled in surprise when the girl sprung up unexpectedly shaking her pig-tails furiously, sprinkling sand everywhere and before laughing hysterically.

After settling down, it wasn't long before the girl noticed the arrangement of crushed sandcastles beneath her.

"Oh, golly, sorry; I'm such a goof!" She flailed her hands desperately. "Sorry, I didn't mean to smoosh your stuff. Wait, I'll fix it and make it all good again!"

The strange girl urgently retrieved the toy bucket and began feverishly reconstructing the sandcastles, assembling each with inhuman speed. "There – all better!"

After Noire marveled at the creations, the orange-haired girl began to migrated closer towards Severa, their faces inches away from each other.

"Hey" mused the girl, "I 'member you – our Mummies are friends. Ugh, what was your name? Wait, don't tell me – I know this!"She scratched her head comically.

The red-head folded her arms bashfully. "Severa."

"Oh, that's right," exclaimed the other, "I knew that!" She jokingly knocked her forehead with her hand. "Duh, I'm such a dummy."

Noire recoiled in embarrassment when she suddenly approached her. "Hi there" she announced cheerfully, "what's your name?"

With her parents' encouraging words still echoing through her mind, Noire spoke softly as she repeated the same hand gestures from before. "H-hello, my n-name is…N-n-n…"

"Nancy? Nina? Nicole?"

"-Noire."

"Huh, that's a weird name. Well, it's nice to meet 'ya, Noire. I'm Cynthia – it's like Cynth but with an 'ugh' at the end."

"...Okay?"

Cynthia began to gaze intently at Noire's forehead. "Ooh, I like your feather! It's really pretty."

Smiling bashfully, Noire's hands instinctively migrated towards the item. "Oh, th-thank you. F-father got it for me when I turned f-five."

Noire watched as a massive smile spread across Cynthia's face. "Oh my gosh, _I'm_ five too!" She shook her hands excitedly before swiftly bounding towards Severa. "Are _you_ five?"

"...Yeah…but I'm gonna be six soon" answered Severa, folding her arms.

Cynthia stared in astonishment. "Wow" she exclaimed, "we're all five years old! That is _so_ cool!"

"Why were you playing with boys?"

Noire turned her attention to Severa who stared at Cynthia expectantly, visibly interested. Just like the red-head, Noire too was intrigued as to why Cynthia, the only other girl attending the playground, had spent her time playing with the boys.

Rather dramatically, Cynthia placed her hands on her hips and spoke in an exaggerated voice. "We were playing Justice Cabal", she began. "I was the super pretty, super strong Pegasus princess and they were the baddies trying to take over the world, and I had to stop them! We got into a _big_ fight, and I was like 'swoosh' and 'hi-yah' and 'take that!' The young girl imitated the swinging sword gestures while emitting noises and battle-cries.

While Severa continued to watch with confusion, Noire stared intently with astonishment, eager to hear the rest of Cynthia's story.

"But then the mean wizard did a magic spell on me and killed me dead!" Cynthia pretended as if something pierced her torso, emitting a strangled cry as she collapsed backwards into the sand.

As Noire anxiously covered her mouth, she was also surprised to see a genuine expression of excitement on Severa's face.

Cynthia began to giggle as she returned to her knees.

Noire's mind was racing with curiosity. "Did you…d-die?"

"Nah, we were just playing pretend" she reassured. With a courteous smile, Cynthia wriggled herself in between Noire and Severa. "I like you guys! Do you wanna be friends?"

A thrill of excitement raced down young Noire's spine. "R-really?"

"Yep, really really!"

As Cynthia turned her attention to the silent red-head, so did Noire, curious to hear how Severa would react to the proposal. After a flustered exchanged between them, Severa shrugged her shoulders bashfully with a weak nod of her head.

Squealing excitably, Cynthia placed her hands on each of their shoulders. "Ooh, this is amazing" she proclaimed, "I bet we're gonna be besties forever! Ooh, have you guys ever made flower rings before?"

Noire hadn't an idea what she was suggesting.

"Really? Oh my gosh – they're _so_ pretty!" Gesturing excitedly away from the sandbox, Cynthia began to make her way out. "Come on, I'll show you how!"

Noire looked to her side and watched Severa hesitantly followed. A small smile graced Noire's lips as she observed Cynthia take one of Severa's hands, causing the red-head to blink frantically in surprise. Noire slowly stood up to accompany her two new friends, but remembered there was an important principle she had to follow before pursuing an activity.

"Hey, you coming?"

Nodding politely, Noire gestured towards her parents sitting away from the sandbox. "Oh, y-yes...I just…"

Acknowledging, Cynthia nodded understandingly.

Noire slowly made her back to her mother and father, her hands folded over her waist as she stared at the ground. During her walk back, the times Noire did look towards her parents she could clearly observe them exchanging words, her father's jovial smile present as well as her mother's stoic expression.

Swallowing anxiously, Noire slowly approached them with a weak smile. Upon reaching their foot of the bench, her father knelt down.

"My goodness, you look positively enraptured, dear" proclaimed Virion courteously, "I venture you've enjoyed your enjoyed yourself this afternoon."

Noire beamed with delight and nodded excitedly before gesturing towards the sandbox. "M-may I…play with them?"

Virion chucked softly. "Noire, you needn't ask for our permission. You're more than welcome to play with whomever you desire."

"Th-thank you, Father."

Although she had received approval from her father, Noire knew it wouldn't be enough. Hesitantly, she turned her gaze to her mother who, upon Noire's arrival, had returned to being silent. Noire experienced a great deal of fear and uncertainty as she observed her mother absentmindedly drum her fingers across her folded arms, visibly deep in concentration.

Noire continued to watch curiously as her father gently placed one of his hands on her mother's thigh, prompting the dark mage to inspect him. With a comforting smile, Virion gestured towards their daughter before them.

"…Stay safe" announced Tharja, "and if either of those two do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or afraid, you are to come back to us immediately, understand?"

Noire lowered her gaze. "Y-yes, M-mother", she whispered softly.

Tharja nodded weakly, "good", before averting her gaze once more.

Smiling with sympathy, Virion gestured behind Noire. "They're expecting you."

Noire turned around to inspect and was greeted with an overly-excited Cynthia waving her hand frantically. Raising her own hand sheepishly to acknowledge, Noire returned to her father and smiled politely.

After placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, Noire bid her parents farewell; Virion returned the gesture but Tharja remained silent. Although she was still disheartened by her mother, Noire tried not to let the dark mage's reluctance deter from enjoying herself as she anxiously returned to the two expectant young girls, as well as the two older women now accompanying them.

"You don't sound quite as delighted as I expected about this development."

Tharja scoffed with exasperation. "Whatever gave you _that_ idea?"

Virion was about to respond but hesitated; for once, the social butterfly was at a loss for words. "I understand your reluctance, I really do – I could never call myself a parent unless I was committed to doing what's right for our child's safety - but I urge to put your troubled conscience to rest." The archer chuckled softly. "They're young; I don't believe they have any untoward or unpleasant intentions in mind."

Tharja lowered her gaze. "I'm not concerned about her new…acquaintances - they're just children."

Virion offered a hand. "Then what, may I ask, has left you so disheartened?"

Slowly, Tharja returned her attention to what she was concentrating on before. There, beside the sandbox stood the respected Pegasus Knights of the Shepherds, Sumia and Cordelia, communicating and interacting with their children.

"Ah, Miss Sumia and Cordelia", he mused, "I thought I recognised some familiar qualities and characteristics in those young girls from somewhere. I say, it seems like eons ago since we fought side by side on the battlefield together with them and the Shepherds."

As Virion reminisced on the past, Tharja observed as her daughter cautiously greeted the two children, prompting their parents to kneel down and interact with her. The young girl reenacted the same gestures she had practiced before turning around and pointing towards the direction of the bench. Tharja felt the heat rise to her cheeks when she witnessed Sumia and Cordelia politely waving towards them, and while her husband returned the gesture, she hastily avoided their gaze.

Virion acknowledged with a nod as the two Pegasus Knights beckoned for him and his wife to join them. As he began to make his way towards them, he hesitated when he realised Tharja wasn't accompanying him..

With a sympathetic expression, Virion offered his hand. "Aren't you going to join me in greeting them?"

Tharja turned to him with an unamsued expression. "They summoned _you_ , not me."

Disheartened to see his wife so despondent and downhearted, Virion was about to object and reassure her but resisted. He knew very well how anti-social the dark mage was, especially around their former allies, and he didn't want impose anything that would make her uncomfortable; her well-being was still his top priority.

Exchanging another glance between the group of females and then to his wife, he smiled weakly. "I shan't be but a moment."

* * *

With a beautiful flower ring wrapped around her wrist, Noire returned with Cynthia and Severa. Slowly approaching her father, she observed him still engaged with the Pegasus Knights.

As Cynthia and Severa returned to their mothers, Noire was about to join her father when she observed the absence of her other parent. A great deal of sorrowful and fearful feelings surrounded her when she witnessed her mother sitting by herself; being alone was personal fear she suffered with, and the young girl certainly didn't want to subject her mother to it.

Electing the most helpful action, Noire slowly approached the bench and her reclusive mother, trepidation in every step she took. Upon reaching the bench, Noire placed her hands down and crawled up onto it. Nestling down, the girl folded her hands and clutched her legs tightly.

Noire gazed up to her mother.. "A-are you okay?"

Tharja stirred uncomfortably. "...I'm fine."

Disappointed, Noire returned her attention to what her mother was focusing on: Virion, but more importantly the women he was speaking with.

Noire pointed towards them. "Wh-who are they?"

Tharja drummed her fingers rhythmically. "Just some people your father and I used to know."

A saddening question emerged in Noire's mind. "Why are they not talking to you?"

She watched as her mother tilted her head. "They don't like me very much…"

Almost instinctively, Noire's lips began to quiver over her mother's confession. Desperately, Noire wriggled herself closer and wrapped her arms around the dark mage's thigh. " _I_ like you", protested Noire.

After a moment, Noire felt her mother gently caress the top of her head, causing Noire to smile and nuzzle in closer to her mother's embrace.

"…And that's all that matters to me", whispered Tharja.


	8. Walking in Your Footsteps

Before commencing with his shot, the charismatic archer carefully retracted the string of his bow with the arrow balanced carefully between his grasp. Although he had performed the exercise more times than he could begin to count, that session that particular afternoon was one of the earliest he had shared with his daughter who sat attentively on a small crate a few metres away, safely out of the firing range.

Turning his head to address her, the azure-haired man winked playfully with a courteous smile. Observing this, Noire knew his gesture signified his next action. Still frightened and overwhelmed with the events taking place, Noire hastily covered her eyes with her hands to avoid exposure.

Amused by her reaction, Virion returned his attention to the item he was aiming for and released his arrow.

The sharp sound of wood being pierced echoed through the air for a split-second, enough for Noire to hear. Relieved that her father had finished, the young girl retracted her hands to observe the results of the exercise. Gazing towards her father, the archer smiled triumphantly and gestured towards the tree in front of him. Examining closer, Noire's eyes fell upon the wooden arrow impaled against the tree of the mighty oak, but more importantly, the young woman observed the scattered remains of a shredded apple surrounding the base of the pedestal it was situated on.

With her eyes and mouth wide with marvel and astonishment, Noire looked back to her father and softly clapped her hands together, a small smile across her lips. Her enthusiasm increased when she watched her father extend his hand into the air before bowing gracefully.

Standing up excitedly, Noire curiously approached the marked tree to inspect the results. Although she couldn't quite reach the arrow - even when standing on her toes - she continued to gaze intently at the object, mystified by her father's actions. Looking towards her feet, Noire noticed the remains of the innocent apple caught in the cross-fire. Not being one to ignore a mess, the young girl elected to help her father by retrieving the remaing apple pieces.

Returning to him with the sticky leftovers in hand, Noire extended her palms up to offer them for her father. After gently placing his bow back inside its quiver, Virion knelt down to retrieve the apple pieces from his daughter. Although he had intended leaving the fruit there for the wildlife to enjoy, the man was still impressed with daughter's efforts.

"Why thank you, my dear" he smiled courteously, "you have been a tremendous help this afternoon. I am very proud of you."

Noire smiled bashfully, still unprepared to receive such praise.

After retrieving a plastic bag from the catalogue of items the two had brought outside, Virion scooped the apple pieces inside before discarding of the bag.

The young girl's mind was still reeling with excitement, thoroughly astonished by her father's performance. Although she had heard several stories throughout her life about his experiences, seeing the exercise in person was incomparable.

"…Th-that was really…fun" she whispered, fiddling with her hands anxiously.

Virion smiled jovially. "Well, I'm delighted to hear that you've enjoyed yourself. I myself shall cherish this experience as well."

Noire observed curiously as her father's typical playful grin emerged as he extended an index finger.

"But" he announced mischievously, "we aren't finished quite yet. I have prepared a little…surprise for you, my darling." The man winked playfully, "since you have been such a wonderful participant, I believe you deserve a reward, but only if you close your eyes."

The young girl's heart beat excitedly from the prospect of a surprise. Smiling eagerly, Noire covered her eyes with her hands and averted her gaze. After her ears were graced with the curious sounds of rustling and bumping, the young girl excitedly opened her eyes after her father gave her permission to. Noire's smile faltered slightly as she observed the contents of the small wooden box her father held in front of her.

Inside the box were a small plastic bow and a selection of arrows with suctioned cup arrowhead held tightly together with a rubber-band.

Gazing up to her father, the archer greeted her with an excited smile as he gestured towards the items.

Noire placed a hand over her mouth. "…Is…is this for… _m-me_?"

Virion chuckled softly. "Of course, my dear, it's your very own archery set, just for you."

The young girl exchanged a glance between the gift and again to her father, her mind still trying to process the development. One thing, however, she was certain of was that it was possibly the last thing she expected to receive. A small thrill of excitement raced down her spine over the prospects of becoming an archer just like her father. She had always wanted to see him perform the feat in person, and after what she had just witnessed him do, she had no doubts that she wanted to pursue the profession as well.

Noire's smile beamed with appreciation as she folded her hands over her waist, and nodded politely. "…Th-thank you…Father", she whispered.

Virion gently caressed the underside of her chin, causing the girl to giggle softly. "There's no need to thank me, dear", he reassured, "your participation and commitment has been more than enough." He raised his eyebrow. "Now, would milady wish to practice?"

Shaking her head softly, Noire winced with uncertainty.

Virion retrieved the items from within the box before placing it down beside her. "I understand you may have some reluctance, my dear. I was no older than a lad of your age when my father presented me with my first archery lesson, and I too experienced reservations to the arrangement."

Unwrapping the plastic rubber arrows, Virion gently offered her the bow. "But with enough practice and determination, I overcame my uncertainty, and discovered a passion for the art of archery, one that I have cherished for all my days on this Earth." Virion smiled encouragingly as he spoke softly. "Do not worry, Noire. If you would do me the inestimable pleasure of accepting the bow, I would be honoured to teach you everything I know."

Noire continued to gaze at her father, eagerly absorbing everything he had to share about his childhood, his experiences with archery and, most importantly, his hospitable offer. Examining the bow presented before her carefully, Noire swallowed anxiously. Although she still experienced some reluctance, her father's encouraging words were more than enough support.

Cautiously, Noire retrieved the bow from his hand before whispering softly. "…O-OK, F-father…I'll try…"

Smiling appreciatively, Virion offered his arms for an embrace, one that Noire eagerly returned with equal passion. After releasing, Virion reached behind his back to retrieve his bow from the quiver before standing up confidently. "Now" he announced, "before we continue any further, you're going to need to learn how to hold your bow properly. Try to mirror what I do."

Nodding understandingly, Noire fumbled slightly trying to grasp her bow correctly, but after a moment of difficulty, she replicated her father's posture.

Having abandoned her reading and research commitments for the afternoon, Tharja hadn't realised she had been watching her family intently from her seat until her usually apprehensive daughter suddenly appeared before her with an overwhelmed, excited smile on her flustered cheeks, anxiously gesturing towards the practice archery target her father had assembled, a small rubber arrow stuck to the out black section.

"M-mother" she whispered excitedly, "…I…I got th-the b-black."

Turning to her husband, the charismatic archer winked playfully, reassuring the dark mage. After some reluctance, Tharja gently caressed her daughter's cheek with a weak smile. "…Well done, Noire."


	9. Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

Noire watched with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as her mother retrieved an unusual looking spell-book from her bookcase, one that didn't look at all like the others arranged on the shelf.

"…I'm s-scared, Mother."

Tharja turned towards her, knelt down and offered her the book. Noire studied the cover with curiosity.

"You have no reason to be afraid" spoke Tharja seriously, "so long as you follow my lead, you'll be perfectly alright."

"B-but…wha-what about…Father?"

"Oh, do not worry about him. I know he may not _look_ like it but he's a lot stronger than you think. I've done this before with him. He'll be fine."

Despite her apprehension, Noire found comfort in mother's reassurance.

Bringing her hands together audibly, Tharja smirked with delight and began to make her way towards the entrance to workstation. Noire followed closely behind.

"Besides, your Father has been rather _naughty_ as of late, and he needs to be dealt with."

The dark mage's notorious sinister smile made her uneasy. Noire clutched the book tightly and accompanied her mother downstairs. Tharja stopped abruptly and folded her arms over her chest, waiting expectantly for her daughter to arrive.

Noire shook her head softly, reluctant to participate, but Tharja payed no mind.

Clearing her throat audibly, Tharja made her announcement. "Virion, downstairs at once."

"I shan't be but a moment", he exclaimed jovially.

Noire watched as her father descended the stairs with his typical grace, bowing politely. "You summoned me, my love?"

He swiftly closed the distance between him and the dark mage, retrieved her hand before and applied several passionate kisses to her knuckles. "How may I be of service?"

Noire wasn't alarmed by him reaction – she had witnessed her parents exchange many a passionate embrace – rather her mother's, or lack thereof. She had expected to see her mother shower him with kisses as well. Instead, Tharja hastily retracted her hand.

"You're in trouble."

Virion brought a hand to his chest. "Trouble? Me? Good lord, whatever for?"

Tharja glared accusingly. "This morning, you promised Noire and I that you would help us clean her bedroom, did you not?"

"…Yes, of course." He gasped audibly."I did proclaim that, didn't I? Oh, heavens above, I've been so distracted today that I abandoned a promise I made for my family." He brought his hands together pleadingly. "Oh, please, my dear, spare your naive husband. It was but one mistake. Surely he cannot be held accountable for this -"

Tharja raised her hand, silencing him. "I don't want to hear your excuses. You made a promise that you didn't fulfill."

Virion dropped to his knees. "I beg for your forgiveness; it was but an honest mistake."

Noire observed curiously as a small smile emerged on her mother's lips that disappeared just as soon as it arrived. "I will not accept your excuses this time. You know the rules of this household: those who lie, cheat or misbehave must be punished."

Virion returned to his feet."Yes, I understand very well how we operate, and as a member of this household I must uphold and respect those values." Closing his eyes and bowing gently, the archer sighed with defeat. "I have committed an unforgivable injustice, and I deserve to be punished. Do your worst. I deserve nothing less."

Squealing audibly, Virion and Tharja both turned to witness their daughter obscuring the book over her face. The two adults exchanged a delighted, amused expression to one another. He winked mischievously; she stifled a laugh.

Unbeknownst to Noire, her parents' confrontation was nothing more than a ruse. Because of Virion's immunity to curses, the two adults knew he was in no sense of peril, so to try and destigmatise the negative connotations Noire had developed about her mother's profession, the two had elected to demonstrate what Tharja's sorcery was capable.

Exchanging another excited smile between one another, the two parents adopted their personas once more as Tharja cracked her fingers audibly.

" _Stiff and stricken, become a chicken!"_

Noire hesitantly lowered the book to inspect what had happened. There, standing before her was her father still, only now he was scraped the floor with his foot, emitting unusual clucking noises.

"…What happened?"

Although she knew her husband was only fabricating, Tharja still experienced amusement from his performance. "Your father is now a chicken."

Noire watched her father continue to bend over and imitate pecking the ground. "…Is Father going to be a chicken…forever?"

He's only under the influence of one of my spells."

"…Can you f-fix him?"

"Of course. The effects of my magic will disappear with the simple snap of my fingers", she smiled mischievously, "as so."

After hearing mother click her fingers, Noire watched as her father rose to his feet hastily, shaking his head with bewilderment.

"Good heavens, how on Earth did I arrive here? Ah, my family, perhaps you could refresh my memory; I haven't the faintest clue of how I came to be here. Tell me, what in heaven's name is happening?"

"…You were a ch-chicken, Father", whispered Noire playfully.

Virion, exaggeratedly, recoiled in confusion. "A chicken, you say? Goodness, how undignified! How…how uncivilised." He turned to his wife with a sly smile. "This wouldn't happen to be because of your influence, perchance?"

Tharja relished in her husband's charades and performance. "Perhaps? But I'm not finished yet. C _ounting sheep, fall asleep!_ "

Immediately, Virion closed his eyes and hung his head lazily, emitting exaggerated yawning noises.

The young girl turned to her mother anxiously. "He's asleep", she whispered excitedly.

Tharja placed her index finger over lips. "We don't want to wake him."

Noire covered her mouth, trying desperately not to giggle. After admiring her 'sleeping' husband, Tharja snapped her fingers once more and Virion, in jest, stood back up with exaggerated exhaustion.

"My word, how impolite of me to slumber during a family activity."

Tharja turned to Noire and gestured towards the book the girl. "It's your turn now."

Almost immediately, Noire shook her head frantically, visibly afraid.

"It's quite alright, it's only a few words, you can manage it. You're a big girl now."

Turning to her father for approval, Virion smiled reassuringly."You needn't worry about me, my dear. 'Tis but a harmless spell. I shall be fine."

Although she still harboured reluctance, Noire was still overwhelmed and delighted that she been able to share the experience with her parents, and any opportunity to spend time with her reclusive mother wasn't one she wanted to miss.

Smiling nervously, Noire inspected the book's contents.

Noire had her suspicions as to why the spell-book didn't look like others occupying her mother's shelf, and that's because it was no more than a scrapbook. Prior to the activity, Virion and Tharja had spent the night earlier brainstorming all sorts of unique and humourous 'curses' the man could be inflicted with.

Settling on a spell with words that she recognised (and one that wouldn't affect her father dramatically), Noire began softly. " _…Insects and bugs, give y-your daughter a great big…hug."_

"As milady commands, it shall be done." Swiftly, he closed the distance and gracefully lifted her into an embrace. Noire was caught by surprise but soon nestled closer into his arms.

Had the two been watching, they might have observed a small, heartwarming smile emerge on the dark mage's lips. In spite of her reputation for being reclusive and unforgiving, Tharja secretly never tired of seeing her family communicate with each other.

" _Yes_ , _yes_ " she announced dryly, " _very_ touching, but we aren't finished yet. You still have a promise to fulfill."

After their embrace, Tharja snapped her fingers once more. " _Dustpans and brooms, clean your daughter's room."_

Virion bowed gracefully. "As milady commands, it shall be done." He extended his finger into the air, "Virion…AWAY!"

And with that, the doting father man swiftly ascended the stairs and disappeared down the hallway. Giggling excitedly, Noire was about pursue her father but hesitated when she realised she was still holding the book. Approaching her mother, the young girl gingerly offered it.

Tharja accepted the book from her. Bowing politely, Noire gazed up to her mother but hastily averted her eyes, still embarrassed for feeling inept and helpless from earlier. Noire watched as the dark mage stopped at the foot of the stairs and politely gestured for her to accompany.

With an eager smile, Noire cradled her mother's hand and ascended the stairs.


	10. De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da

A power outage was the first conclusion the charismatic archer came to when he arrived home to find the house completely shrouded in darkness; _that_ , or it was the result of another one of his wife's experiments.

Still, as he continued further down the hallway to the lounge room – the only source of light being provided from the lampposts outside – he couldn't help but ponder as to why the house wasn't illuminated. His speculating, however, was ceased when he reached the end of the hallway, and a faint, childlike giggle of amusement could be heard from within the room, one that he immediately recognised.

Resisting the urge to laugh himself, he made an announcement to nobody in particular. "Good heavens, I certainly hope we haven't been invaded by any dastardly ruffians hiding among the shadows."

Almost upon cue, the lights to the lounge room illuminated, and standing before the gentleman were the two most important females in life, one with their arms folded casually, and the other residing beside the light switch, visibly shaking with excitement.

Amused by their unexpected appearance, Virion placed his hands on his hips. "Might I ask what this is about?"

Tharja smiled mischievously, "surely you haven't forgotten?"

Virion raised an eyebrow. The archer observed as his daughter retrieved a small envelope from the lounge room table before returning to her mother's side, fidgeting with the item behind her back.

"You'll have to enlighten me, my dear; I haven't a clue as to what you're insinuating."

The dark mage giggled impishly. Slowly closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around his neck and applied a passionate kiss, one that her husband reciprocated after the initial surprise.

After releasing, Tharja cheekily traced her index finger down Virion's chest. "Happy Birthday, my love; congratulations", she whispered seductively.

Upon hearing her announcement, Virion's mind began processing the facts and, after performing the necessary equations, he came to the conclusion that it was, indeed, the 10th of December.

After chuckling with humiliation, Virion brought a hand to his forehead. "My word, how embarrassing" he spoke comically, "I've been so distracted that I've even neglected to acknowledge my own date of birth."

Tharja scoffed jokingly. "Well, fortunately for you, _some_ of us remembered."

Virion observed curiously as Noire continued to fidget with the envelope behind her back, an infectious smile across her face. It was then when the dark mage knelt down beside her and whispered something in her ear, prompting the young girl to approach her father.

"…Happy Birthday, Father" she whispered, offering the envelope. After Virion accepted it with an appreciate smile, the young girl hastily retreated behind her mother's legs.

Amused by her reaction, Virion turned back to Tharja and retrieved the folded piece of paper inside. Upon unfolding it, Virion was delighted to see a vibrantly colourful canvas drawn with crayons; the words " _HAPPY BIRTHDAY FATHER!"_ written across the top in block writing.

It wasn't the first picture he'd received from their daughter but it was, however, the first one he'd been presented for a birthday. Knowing very well what action to take, the charismatic archer brought a hand to his mouth.

"My goodness" he exclaimed with animation, "I…I've never seen an illustration so remarkably detailed. Why, the splendor and creativity is practically leaping from the canvas."

While Tharja smiled with amusement, Noire hesitantly returned to her Father, staring breathlessly over his proclamation. "D-do you…like it?"

Virion dealt down beside her and gently kissed her cheek, prompting Noire to recoil bashfully. "My dear, it's unlike anything I've ever seen." He pointed to a collection of an usual shapes on the paper. "And who are these?"

"Th-that's you, and this is M-mother, and I'm th-this one" she whispered, pointing to each, "we're playing outside."

Thoroughly touched and captivated by his daughter's efforts, he brought her in for a gentle embrace, one Noire eagerly accepted.

After releasing, Virion smiled courteously. "Thank you, Noire, I shall cherish this always." He winked playfully, "I know exactly where I shall hang this."

Noire stirred, visibly bashful and overwhelmed.

Virion was about to inquire further about her drawing when the young girl suddenly returned to her mother, seeking the dark mage's attention. "M-mother? Can I…" she whispered quietly into Tharja's ear, inaudible to Virion.

With an uncertain expression, Tharja nodded softly. "…Be careful."

"I will" answered the young girl who eagerly retreated from the room and into the kitchen.

With their child occupied elsewhere, Virion glided gracefully towards his wife after placing the picture in his pocket. "I must say" he announced jovially, "I could never have expected you to arrange an occasion such as this."

"Yes, well, you'll have to further suspend your disbelief" answered Tharja seriously, "I'm not responsible." She gestured towards the kitchen.

A curious smile graced Virion's lips. "My dear, surely you're exaggerating?"

"I'm serious" she protested, " _this_ was her idea - to surprise you."

"And how, might I ask, did she know?"

Tharja smiled weakly. "I _may_ or may _not_ have absentmindedly mentioned your birthday was approaching, and ever since then she has _insisted_ we do something to celebrate, that's why she drew the picture for you."

Virion sighed contently. "I am truly and eternally grateful for your efforts, the both of you – this event shall not go unappreciated." After whispering sensually, his typical narcissistic smile returned. " _You_ wouldn't have happened to arrange anything for your doting husband, perchance?"

Tharja retracted her hand, folding her arms. With her familiar smirk, Tharja glared her eyes. "Perhaps, but only if he behaves himself."

A small voice emerged from behind them prompting both adults to inspect. Virion's appreciative smile returned when he witnessed his six year old daughter emerge from the kitchen cradling a circular cake on a tray, an assortment of fruit and confectionaries decorating the base.

Virion and Tharja both watched with uncertainty and trepidation as their young girl slowly approached them with a nervous smile, carefully balancing the dessert in her hands trying desperately to maintain her composure. However, as luck would have it, their daughter's nerves got the better of her, and, without warning, the young girl suddenly stumbled backwards with the upside of the cake plastered against her chest.

Before either adult could react, their young daughter suddenly erupted into tears; whether from making impact with the floor's surface or from the overwhelming humiliation, neither could tell. Regardless, Noire continued to sob profusely into her hands prompting the two parents to exchange a look between one another. While Tharja expressed a demeanor of sorrow and regret, Virion relieved her with a supportive smile, reassuring her that he wasn't disheartened by the outcome.

After Tharja nodded understandingly with a weak smile, Virion smiled gently. " _I'll_ dispose of the mess."

Reluctantly, Tharja acknowledged and slowly approached their daughter, kneeling down beside her to gently peel the crumbled cake from her torso. Instinctively, Noire extended her arms out as Tharja gently lifted her upwards into an embrace, the dark mage unbothered if she too would end up with a mess on her clothes. As Noire continued to weep into her shoulder, Tharja turned back to Virion with uncertainty. The archer raised a hand, politely reassuring her. Tharja smiled weakly.

"…It's…it's alright" whispered Tharja as she cradled the young girl, exiting the room, "it was just an accident."

Without a moment's hesitation, Virion retrieved the cleaning material and resources from beneath the kitchen sink after disposing of the dessert. Being ever the perfectionist, the archer didn't abandon the commitment after every inch of the dirty surface was thoroughly clean. For the duration, Virion reflected upon the experience arriving home; although he hadn't the opportunity to try the cake, he was still completely enraptured and heart warmed to have received one.

Arriving outside the door to the bathroom, Virion observed from the outside that Tharja was tending to their daughter sitting motionless in the bath, gently pouring cups of water over Noire's head as her fingers rinsed the shampoo from the young girl's hair. Fortunately, Noire's crying had ceased but she still possessed an expression of deep sadness, one that Virion was disheartened to see.

Sighing contently, Virion carefully stepped into the bathroom.

* * *

"That was quite the performance" spoke Tharja from behind her book.

Virion bowed gracefully. "I pride myself on my theatrical abilities, although you must know I _was_ absolutely delighted to have received a piece of artwork from her."

Tharja sighed softly, and closed her book. "I wasn't talking about that…"

Sensing her disturbance, Virion approached the bed, removed the quilt and climbed in. "Then _what,_ if you don't mind me asking?"

The dark mage opened the bedside drawer and placed the book inside before folding her arms. "…I'm so sorry about this evening."

Virion waved his hand dismissively with a smile. "Do not be. It was an honest accident – it wasn't her fault at all."

Tharja turned over on her side. "No, you're right…it's my fault."

The archer gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Tharja, I can assure you I'm not the least bit discouraged by this endeavor."

"…You don't have to lie on my behalf."

Sighing softly, Virion retracted his hand, sensing just how disheartened she'd become. After a moment of hesitation, the archer spoke gently. "I cannot express how grateful I am for your devotion – you and Noire."

Tharja slowly turned over with a conflicted expression. "…You are?"

Virion nodded. "Verily. A celebration to cherish my date of birth was something I hadn't expected arriving home, and I cannot thank you or Noire enough for this experience." He smiled weakly. "I honestly don't believe I deserved such a reception."

Smiling bitter-sweetly, Tharja returned to her original position. "I'll make it up to you…somehow."

Virion smiled politely. "I assure you, there is no need; the love and affection the each of you grace me with every day is all I could ever ask for."

With a mischievous smirk, Tharja brought a finger to her lips. "Is that so? Very well then…"

Swiftly removing the bed quilt covering them, Tharja didn't hesitate to migrate onto her husband's torso, suspending her body above his own. After tracing a finger down his chest, Tharja crawled towards him, letting her hair dangle gently against his face as she whispered in his ear.

" _But I'm sure I can think of something_ …"


	11. Message in a Bottle

As the whimsical melody continued to echo softly throughout the hallway, Noire quietly approached the outside of the study and peered inside. As she expected, her father was inside but rather than situated by the desk, he was pacing around the room with a piece of paper in hand, singing softly to himself.

Noire hadn't realised she'd been watching until her Father acknowledged her presence with a smile. "Yes, Noire?"

The young girl recoiled with embarrassment for being caught and shook her head softly. "No" she whispered, "I…I heard you singing."

Her father placed a hand over his chest. "Heavens, was I projecting my voice too loudly? Forgive me, my blossom, I hadn't meant to disturb you."

Noire bowed politely. "I'm…OK, thank you, F-father." She pointed towards the paper curiously. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Just engaging in a spot of writing, that's all." He winked playfully, "I'm trying to construct the perfect letter, and a melody or two helps power the gears of creativity in my mind."

Noire smiled with amusement. "Who are you…writing to?"

"My Mother and Father."

"Y-your…? Gr-grandmother and Grandf-father?"

"They're the ones." He sighed contently. "It's been far too long since I've been in contact them, and they deserve to stay informed about my most recent practices."

"What are you…writing about?"

Virion knelt down to caress her under the chin. "Only everything and anything involving my wonderful family. For everything I've shared with your grandparents, you and your mother are the only ones they ever want to her about." He laughed jokingly, "why, my _own_ parents have grown rather tired of _my_ personal experiences; they'd much rather hear about their favourite granddaughter."

The young girl smiled bashfully. " _They_ want to know…about _m-me_?"

"Of course, my dear. They're always encouraging me to write more frequently, if only so they can stay in touch and understand how you're progressing."

The prospects of her Father's announcement made butterflies emerge in her stomach.

"Say, I have an idea: would you like to write a letter of your own for them?"

The proposal made Noire wince with uncertainty; expressing herself creatively wasn't exactly her strongest quality. "…Oh, I don't know…" she whispered softly.

"It's quite alright, my dear. They're not expecting anything too extraneous or detailed."

Noire continued to avert her eyes, visibly concerned and conflicted.

Virion gently caressed a strand of hair behind her ear. "It would mean ever so much to them if they could hear from you."

Although she still experienced some resistance to the idea, the opportunity to speak with her Grandparents again wasn't one she wanted to miss; she hadn't seen them in some time.

"…OK…I'll try", she whispered.

"Wonderful." Virion retrieved a blank piece of paper as well as a quill pen from the ink jar. Offering the two items, Noire excitedly accepted them.

As her father returned to reviewing his letter, Noire began work on her own. Despite her eagerness to write, the young girl still couldn't quite decide exactly what to include; there were so many stories, events and anecdotes she wanted to share, but expressing them through words was causing her difficulty. After a moment of reflection, Noire held her breath and put the pen to paper.

Virion's attention returned to his daughter when she announced she had finished. Approaching the desk, the archer observed as Noire cradled the piece of paper against her chest tightly with a bashful smile.

"Would you mind if had a read?" Virion extended his hand.

"M-may _I_ …read it to y-you?"

Although surprised at first from her proposal, Virion was still very impressed with her confidence and nodded politely, taking the empty seat beside her.

Smiling nervously, Noire carefully stood up in her seat, exchanging a glance between her smiling father and the letter she had worked very hard on. Clearing her throat softly, she began.

" _Dear Grandmother and G-grandfather,_

 _I'm doing…very good. I really miss you._

 _Love…Noire."_

After concluding, Noire stared at her father expectantly, hoping very much what she had written sufficed. Instead of an immediate response, Noire watched as a warm smile spread across her father's face as he clapped his hands softly.

"Perfect" praised Virion jovially as he offered his hand. Smiling softly, Noire eagerly presented him the letter. Although the handwriting was still quite unpolished, Virion was still enamored with his daughter's poignant, emotional letter.

Virion returned the letter to her. "Thank you, my dear. I know they'll be absolutely delighted to hear from you." He extended his index finger. "Once I'm satisfied with my own, I shall post the two immediately."

Noire nodded excitedly. "D-do you kn-know…when they will r-read it?"

Virion brought a finger to his chin. "Well, there _is_ a substantial distance between our land and the kingdom of Rosanne so I suspect your Grandparents shan't receive our letters for a few weeks or so, and my estimation isn't factoring in other variables such as wind and weather conditions."

Disheartened, Noire nodded slowly. "…OK" she whispered.

"But fear not, my dear" reassured Virion dramatically, "for although we _may_ have to rely on the services of ordinary carrier pigeons, when Grandmother and Grandfather decide to respond, I venture they'll elect their most valued and trusted associate for such a job: Primrose."

"W-who?"

Virion smiled delightfully. "My family's owl."

Noire's eyes widened with excitement. "I didn't…you ha-have a pet?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Virion responded. "Well, not quite. Primrose does not belong to me but rather the royal family of Rosanne; she and the countless other respected animals are passed down through each generation." He smiled sweetly. "Primrose, however, is the one I've cherished the most dearly since my youth." He gestured towards his daughter's accessory, "your feather once belonged to her."

Noire's hand instinctively migrated to the item which she retrieved from her headband. She stared at it curiously. "B-but…but I thought y-you…"

Virion winked impishly. "And where do you think I obtained such a precious treasure?"

The surprising development made Noire's heart beat excitedly. For the longest period she had always believed the feather she had been presented as a gift was of a common bird; she had no idea it once belonged to an owl, and one from her father's royal family. Noire knew that she had to take extra special care of the item.

"And just what are you two up to?"

The unexpected voice made Noire turn around to inspect its origins, and the young girl was delighted to see her mother standing in the doorway.

Virion acknowledged her with a polite hand gesture. "Nothing untoward, I assure you, my love" he replied with animatedly, "we're simply engaged in a little family activity."

Tharja folded her arms and glared. "And why wasn't I invited?"

Gracefully, Virion rose from his seat and offered her the chair, gesturing for her company. "You are more than welcome to join us." Noire nodded apologetically, reaffirming his proposal.

The dark mage tilted her head, fabricating concentration. "I'll consider your proposal" she answered sarcastically before turning around to face the entrance.

Virion knew very well the woman was only exaggerating disappointment, but Noire didn't, however. Climbing down from her seat, the young girl hastily closed the distance been her and her mother, taking the dark mage by the hand and gazing up at her breathlessly.

After a moment of inactivity, Noire witnessed a defeated smile emerge on her mother's lips as she allowed her daughter to escort her back into the room.

Folding her arms once more, Tharja inspected the desk. "And just what kind of activity might _this_ be?"

"We're writing let-letters", whispered Noire.

Tharja raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" Her nurturing expression disappeared immediately as she adopted a threatening glare. "Letters to another woman?"

Virion laughed heartily as gracefully took the dark mage by her hands and gently brought them to his chest.

"Tharja, my eternal love, please dispel that corruptive thought. You must understand I would never perceive committing such an unspeakable act; a crime against our passion, _and_ the one I hold ever so dearly. My heart, spirit and soul belong to nobody save you."

Tharja giggled mischievously. "I _know_ " she whispered, biting her lower lip. "And just who might the recipients of your letters be?"

"Gr-grandmother and Grandfather" answered Noire as she cradled her letter tightly. She smiled weakly, "Fa-father is writing…about us."

Tharja turned towards Virion accusingly. "Really? Only positive news, I hope."

"Only the most inspiring", he reassured.

Noire felt her cheeks burn when her mother gestured towards the letter she was cradling. "Have you written one, Noire?" Tharja asked curiously.

Sheepishly, Noire nodded.

"And I couldn't be more proud that's she taken the initiative to create one" announced Virion, gently caressing Noire's head.

"May I read it?" Tharja asked politely, extending a hand.

Despite her resistance, Noire still acknowledged and offered the letter. An uncomfortable sensation of fear and anxiety came over Noire as she observed her mother examining the letter. After a moment of inactivity, Tharja returned her attention.

"It's a little short…" she announced.

Disheartened, Noire hung her head.

"…But very well written" she concluded, returning the letter. Her mother's unexpected encouragement made Noire beam excitedly, thanking her mother with an appreciative bow of her head.

Noire watched delightfully as her father glided over towards her mother and gently wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her into a soft embrace. Instinctively, Noire dropped down from her chair and eagerly approached her parents, wrapping her arms tightly around her mother's legs.


	12. Murder by Numbers

Arriving outside the door to her mother's workstation, Noire knocked cautiously on the door.

No response.

Hesitantly, Noire reached to grasp the doorknob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. After swallowing anxiously, she slowly opened it to inspect inside.

With some trepidation, Noire cautiously set foot inside the room, her eyes scanning to inspect the contents of the workplace. Eventually, Noire's attention fell upon the desk and an unusual red book spread open. Upon further inspection Noire noticed a selection of notes and recordings with her mother's handwriting.

Venturing that her mother was practicing another spell, Noire elected to try and continue with the research. All she really wanted was for her and her mother to share the same kind of loving relationship she had with her father, and the young girl was more than prepared to do anything to try and achieve that dream.

Clearing her throat softly, Noire examined the unusual handwriting featured in the book before concentrating on a selection of words she recognised, and hesitantly recited them.

" _Noire, what on Earth are you doing!?"_

Squealing audibly, the young girl was alarmed to see her mother standing in the doorway. Before Noire could react, a ball of smoke suddenly erupted from the book; no doubt an unintended side-effect from mispronouncing the spell.

Cowering with fear, Noire watched as her mother hastily approached, reciting her own incantation and evaporating the phenomenon. After Tharja angrily confiscated the book, she glared at the whimpering girl.

"What have I told you about coming in here!?"

Noire stared breathlessly at her mother, her heart beating frantically as a cold sweat enveloped her body.

Tharja shook her head furiously. "What a stupid thing to do! What in God's name were you thinking!?"

Crying audibly, Noire erupted into tears, burying her face into her palms. With pain on her face and in her heart, the deeply terrified and ashamed young girl leapt down from the chair, hastily retreated from the room and disappeared down the hallway.

It was only after her daughter had vanished did Tharja process what had just happened.

* * *

Sitting solemnly at the dining room table sat the remorseful and repentant dark mage with her arms folded tightly; the only other noise audible being her deep, methodical breathing.

Tharja's session of penitent self-reflection and self-loathing was interrupted by the presence of footsteps emerging from the hallway. The dark mage observed as her husband greeted her with a small smile. She averted her gaze.

She listened carefully to the sounds emanating from the kitchen. It wasn't long before Virion returned to the table with a tray of items. Virion retrieved the cups and carefully poured the contents of the kettle into them, placing each on a saucer.

Tharja observed eye as her husband gently placed the cup of tea in front of her before taking a seat. She was greeted with another bittersweet smile as he gestured towards the beverage. After some reluctance, Tharja retrieved her cup.

"I _know_ what you're going to say…so _please_ spare me the lecture."

Virion placed his beverage down. "I have no intentions of reproaching you-"

"Then go! If you don't have anything to say then just… _please_ …leave me be."

After a moment of unbearable silence, Tharja was treated to a response.

"Very well."

Stirring uncomfortably, Tharja listened as her husband retrieving his cup. Exhaling with exasperation, Tharja hastily returned her attention to him with a remorseful expression.

"No" she protested, "I didn't…". She hesitated as her hands began to rub her arms uncomfortably. "…Please stay."

Virion returned to his seat.

Retrieving her cup for another sip, Tharja cradled the item tightly. "You must think me a monster."

Virion shook his head softly. "That accusation couldn't be further from the truth. I don't believe that at all, and neither does Noire. She's just frightened."

Upon hearing this, Tharja exhaled remorsefully. "…I never meant to raise my voice against her…it's just…I was…"

"Frightened, yourself?"

She nodded dejectedly. "She needs to understand what she did was incredibly dangerous." Tharja closed her eyes. "I might not be able justify my actions, but you need to understand as to why I reacted so strongly."

Virion acknowledged with a smile. "You needn't explain yourself. I don't doubt your reasoning, but surely you could relieve some of her guilt." He extended his hand towards her. "She's young; she was only curious."

Tharja turned back to him desperately. " _That_ is no excuse! She _knows_ very well by now that she is forbidden from entering there without our company for _this_ exact reason! She wasn't just exploring, she was trying to perform a curse, and if I hadn't arrived it could have been disastrous. She could have been hurt…or worse."

The dark mage exhaled deeply. "What in the Lord's name was she thinking, trying to recite an incantation?"

After a moment of silence, Tharja was greeted with a response from Virion. "I asked her the very same question, and she confided in me about her intentions."

Expectantly, Tharja turned to Virion.

He hesitated before answering. "She had lead herself to believe that she could have been of service - that if she become better-versed with your profession you might be inclined to spend time with her."

Tharja stared breathlessly at her husband, her mind desperately to process his confession. An unbearable sensation of guilt and remorse developed in her soul.

"…I didn't know…"

Virion smiled warmly. "Her intentions were pure; she was only trying to help."

Tharja stirred uncomfortably.

Before responding, Virion cleared his throat silently. "If we don't learn anything from this endeavor, we should at the very least embrace it as an experience to reflect on rather than an incident to abolish," he nodded assertively, "which is why I firmly believe now above any other point in time would be the most critical and pivotal opportunity for Noire to become better acquainted with your work."

Tharja sighed with exasperation. "Virion, _please_ , we've discussed this…"

"I _know_ " he protested, "but it bears repeating. We mightn't haven't accomplished anything from this experience, but we can, at the very least, confirm that she longs for your care and attention, and I have no doubts that under your tutelage and guidance she-"

"No!" Tharja interjected with a flustered expression, "I refuse to educate her in the ways of dark magic."

"Please try to understand, this could be a potentially life-changing experience for her, and one the two of you can share together."

Disheartened and offended, Tharja stared at him incredulously. "Are you _really_ going to play that card?"

Virion returned her response with a serious expression. "Forgive me for my proclamation, but it bears a grain of truth. An opportunity like this could be a wonderful experience-"

"This is not up for negotiation!"

With a gentle sigh, Virion adopted an empathetic expression. "Please do not be disheartened by the prospect. I too identify with your concerns and-"

"Oh, do you _really_ , because I didn't hear any objections from you when she expressed interest in archery!"

Virion stared stoically. "I am completely aware of the dangers presented when pursuing the activity, and I would have not introduced her to it had I not assessed the necessary precautions for someone her age. If she is determined to learn then I am more than prepared to support and guide her through the experience, and I believe you should share the same consensus."

Tharja felt her emotions begin to overwhelm her as she continued to listen, her husband's poignant words resonating with her as she found herself reflecting and identifying with his proposal more and more.

"…You don't understand…".

Virion stared expectantly. "Well, perhaps milady would be so kind as to explain why she harbours such reluctance-"

" _Because I don't want her to end up like me_!"

The archer recoiled in surprise from her outburst. Tharja, however, continued to stare at him with an anguished expression.

"I don't want her to suffer the way I did! To study the Occult is to invite all sorts of reprehensible scorn, resentment and ostracism, and throughout my life I have never been treated any other way." She released a strangled exhale. "I don't want to subject her to _that_. She's...fragile…and delicate…and the last thing I want is for her to experience an upbringing at all like my own."

Virion retracted his hand and returned to his seat, his mind racing relentlessly to try and process everything Tharja had confessed with him; in all the time he'd been with her, she'd never once professed anything like that of the sort.

After some reluctance, he spoke gently. "…I was unaware you harboured such a burden."

Tharja stirred uncomfortably. "Yes, w-well, _now_ you do."

"Please, forgive me, I never intended to pry or intrude."

The dark mage shook her head softly. "No" she whispered, shutting her eyes, "you've done nothing wrong. It was only a matter of time before I told you about my past."

"Might I ask why you don't feel comfortable sharing these experiences?"

Tharja sighed. "…I don't know", she whispered, "I just…my past is something I've been committed to keeping private."

"Would I be impolite in asking why you've decided to share _it_ with me?"

She exhaled deeply. "…Because you're my husband, and I love you. You…you deserve to know."

For a moment. Virion was speechless, struggling to find the appropriate words to express his concerns. "Are you certain?

"…Yes", Tharja nodded weakly, "I trust you more so than anybody. You've confided in me about your past and history, and it's only fair I return the gesture." She sighed sorrowfully before averting her gaze. "I just…I hope you don't think lesser of me now."

Disheartened, Tharja cradled her hand gently, prompting her to return to him with misty eyes. With a bitter-sweet smile, Virion began softly.

"Perish that notion. There's nothing anything or anyone could ever do that would dissuade me from loving the most wonderfully caring, inspiring and extraordinary woman to ever grace my life – my soulmate, and the one I love and cherish with all my heart."

He laughed nervously. "I cannot begin to articulate just how honoured and privileged I am that you decided to confide in me about your turmoil – what you've done took remarkable strength and courage. I could never think lesser of you."

Sniffling, Tharja hastily wiped her saturated cheeks. "I…I'm sorry" she whispered apologetically, "I never meant for this to happen."

Cradling his wife's hand, he smiled gently. "You aren't at fault, my dear." He hesitated before continuing. "…There is somebody else, however, who would appreciate to hear what you've just shared."

Tharja shook her head desperately. "…No, I can't…"

Squeezing her hand gently, he smiled encouragingly. " _Yes_ , you can."


	13. Bring on the Night

As Tharja continued to gently apply the dark purple nail polish to her daughter's fingers, the young girl stared intently at her mother; she was captivated by the dark mage's expression of attentiveness and concentration.

After concluding on the final pinkie finger, Tharja discarded the polish and retrieved a small brush from her bag of cosmetic and beauty items. With the brush, she collected a small sample of eyeliner shade, and slowly extended it towards her daughter's face who, in response, closed her eyes.

Satisfied with her work, Tharja announced she was concluded and offered Noire the chance to inspect herself. As Noire excitedly turned around to face the mirror, Tharja could observe in her reflection that her daughter was very ecstatic to see her transformation.

With a flustered smile, Noire placed her hand against the glass. "…I l-look like you, Mother."

Processing her statement, Tharja nodded understandingly. "Yes, I suppose you do."

As Noire continued to admire the work, she gazed up to her mother's reflection and bowed politely. "Thank you."

Retrieving the plastic headpiece laying on the bed, Tharja gently placed it over her daughter's forehead who adjusted it comfortably in return. "…Just try not to rub any of it on your clothing, please?"

"I…I won't" answered Noire anxiously, fiddling with the headpiece excitedly, "I promise."

Turning back to her mother, Noire asked sheepishly. "D-do you think I look…scary?"

Placing a finger over her chin, Tharja studied her child. "Well, you've captured the appearance, but that isn't enough. Show me your best evil smile."

Noire stared in confusion. "Sorry?"

"If you really intend on making an impression tonight, you're going to need to get into character." Tharja nodded assertively. "Let me see what you can do."

Tharja waited and observed as her daughter fiddled anxiously, visibly conflicted, before furrowing her eyebrows and baring her teeth, growling softly.

"Don't snarl" spoke Tharja seriously, "sorceresses don't growl. Try to be a bit more…subtle, like how I would."

Noire nodded apologetically. "OK, I…I'll try."

Observing carefully, Tharja watched as Noire closed her eyes and averted her gaze, inhaling swiftly. After a moment, the young girl returned with a small but impish smile.

"Ooh, sinister" mused Tharja, adopting a similar smile herself, "I like it."

The young girl's excited and bashful smile returned as she frantically threw her arms around her mother, visibly trembling with anticipation.

"I'm g-going to show Father" announced Noire before eagerly returning towards the entrance and disappearing down the hallway.

Smiling softly with amusement, Tharja couldn't help but feel captivated by her daughter's excitement and eagerness; she couldn't recall the last time the young girl had behaved that way. However, it was upon when she noticed her own delighted smile in the reflection did Tharja's contentment disappear, and the enveloping doubts and fears surrounding her daughter and the night ahead returned, persistently troubling her once more.

Rubbing her face with her hands, Tharja composed herself and began to make her way downstairs as well, stopping outside the entrance to the dining room when she was treated to an amusing exchange between her family.

"-please, mistress, I am but a mortal man with a wife and child. Oh, please, spare me!"

"F-father, it's me."

"My goodness, so it is! What an elaborate disguise. I say, you had me deceive me for a moment."

"D-did I…scare you?"

"Verily, you gave me quite a fright. And here I thought the only malevolent force at work in this household was your mother."

Tharja's eyes widened in response, "excuse me?" She set foot into the room, glaring at her husband.

Virion, naturally, greeted her with his typical narcissistic smile. "Oh, forgive me, my blossom; 'twas but a slip of the tongue."

Unamused, Tharja folded her arms. "Hmph, you'd best hope so."

"M-mother, I scared Father r-really good!" Noire covered her mouth, trying to suppress a smile.

"I expected nothing less" responded Tharja stoically before adopting a sly smile, "your father is easily frightened."

The man in question raised his hands defensively and smiled with defeat.

"They're going to arrive any second now, Noire, and they'll expect you to be ready to leave immediately. Are you?"

"Oh, yes, M-mother, I am…and I will", she reassured with a weak smile. "Oh, I just…oh, I left my lollie bag in my room!" She gestured frantically towards the stairs. "I won't be long!"

And with that, Tharja observed as the young girl eagerly ascended the stairs.

Witnessing her daughter's excitement relieved Tharja of some of her turmoil but not enough to dispel her fears. Sighing softly, she slowly approached her husband and joined him by the table. He was gathering an exotic selection of lollies and confectionary items in a bowl for the neighbourhood visitors.

"Ah, her enthusiasm isn't at all unlike how I behaved during the Harvest season in my youth; my comrades and I partaking in our costumed crusades through the kingdom – some of my fondest and most cherished memories."

Tharja listened attentively to what he had to share.

"Of course" he continued, "there were one or two incidents where my associates and I may have behaved rather… _naughtily_."

"Really?" Tharja asked curiously with a smile. "How so?"

Virion laughed softly, leaning back in his chair. "I must confess, should we have encountered a rather uncooperative individual who did not wish to supply us with the treats we desired", he smiled innocently, "we may or may not have redecorated their front garden rather exotically."

Thoroughly delighted from she had heard, Tharja migrated from beside the table to his chair and seductively nestled herself down on to his lap, folding her arms around his shoulder.

"Gods, my husband – the respected nobleman – vandalising private property?" She traced a finger down his chest, "I never knew you could be such a devil."

Virion grabbed her finger swiftly, prompting her to snicker with delight.

"Hardly" he protested, "it was but a bit of harmless amusement. Surely you all people aren't above that kind of behavior." He smiled courteously. "I can't even begin to imagine the types of mischievous activities the denizens of our neighbourhood have prepared for tonight; I do wonder if they shall rival some of my own escapades."

Upon processing her husband's musing, Tharja's paranoia and uncertainty remerged; her thoughts even more disjointed and foreboding than before. Tharja was already resistant to letting her daughter wander the streets with her friends, and if there _were_ beings with lecherous intentions as her husband proclaimed, then Noire could be in very real danger; the thought of her daughter being approached by a stranger frightened Tharja.

"My dear, is something the matter?"

Tharja was brought back to reality by her husband's announcement. Blinking frantically, she repositioned herself off of him and reassured she was alright, despite her increasing uncertainty.

Before either adult could exchange another word, they hesitated and listened carefully to the sound of the front door at the end of the hallway opening, followed by an escalating sound of frantic footsteps. Tharja and Virion watched as a small figure bounded into the room unexpectedly.

"Evildoers beware, Cynthia is here!"

Virion laughed with delight. Tharja stared in disbelief.

It wasn't long before another figure emerged from the hallway, following the small child desperately with a flustered expression.

"Cynthia, please-"

Upon entering, the former Pegasus Knight smiled nervously, evidently embarrassed. "Oh, I'm so sorry" announced Sumia anxiously, "we should have knocked…but the door was unlocked…and I couldn't stop her…"

Amused, Virion raised his hand politely. "There's no need for apologies; 'tis the time of year for spooks and surprises." He smiled, "besides, there's nothing I enjoy more than a dramatic entrance."

Upon hearing this, Cynthia puffed her chest out triumphantly.

Tharja observed as Sumia turned towards her, mouthing "sorry" before smiling weakly.

No sooner than when the two guests arrived did Noire return from downstairs cradling her orange jack'o'lantern lolly bag before recoiling with embarrassment, visibily overwhelmed to receive such attention.

"Oh, wow" exclaimed Cynthia who eagerly approached the young archer, "you look _so_ cool. Golly, I wish I'd gone as a witch now! We could have been sisters."

Noire, flustered, bowed politely. "Th-thank you…that would have b-been…fun." She gestured towards Cynthia's costume. "…I like y-yours too."

The young orange-haired girl was clad in cardboard meant to depict battle armour; the costume was painted grey for emphasis.

Virion knelt down besides the girls. "I must say, you look rather heroic and chivalrous in this armour, my dear. I've never seen a costume quite like this before."

"Really? Gosh, thanks!" Cynthia smiled excitedly. "Me and Mum and Dad spent, like, forever making this 'cause there was lots of stuff we had to buy-"

As the young girl began to recite eagerly about the production behind her costume, Tharja turned her attention to the other Pegasus Knight in the room who observed her daughter with a smile. After some reluctance, Tharja elected to speak with Sumia.

The silver-haired woman greeted her with a courteous smile. "How are you, Tharja?"

"I'm doing well" she answered politely, "yourself?"

"Oh, a little anxious, a little nervous…just basically a mixture of emotions. It's kind of hard to believe Hallow's Eve has arrived so soon; I could have sworn we only celebrated it a handful of months ago."

Tharja folded her arms. "It's becoming more popular with each year."

"I know, right? I remember when I was their age we never quite celebrated it nearly as passionately as we do in current times. There's just…there's a lot take in each year...it's kind of overwhelming."

Tharja scoffed. "Tell me about it."

Sumia smiled sincerely, gesturing towards their daughters. "But the children love it, and who are a couple of old girls like us to stop them from enjoying themselves." She shrugged bashfully. "I don't believe Cynthia would object to celebrating Hallow's Eve every week; she honestly can't get enough of it."

Tharja observed curiously as the girl in question posed triumphantly in her cardboard armour with Noire watching in astonishment and wonderment.

"She loves it" continued Sumia, "not nearly as much as her father, but he enjoys it for a completely different reason."

Laughing softly, Tharja knew exactly what Sumia was insinuating. However, their exchange of laughter wasn't enough to ease her troubled conscience.

With some reluctance, Tharja inquired politely. "...Where do you intend on taking them?"

"Only around this area and neighbourhood – no further than the end of the street." Sumia stared with concern. "Why, is there something I should know?"

Tharja shook her head softly, her grip on her arms intensifying. "No, there isn't…it's just…", she sighed deeply before whispering, "I still have some reluctance to her walking the streets at this hour."

The dark mage observed as Sumia acknowledged with a smile. "I understand."

Tharja bit her lip. "I suppose I should feel reassured knowing she'll have an adult accompanying her…but it's just…"

She hesitated when she noticed a wounded expression from Sumia.

"…You don't trust me?"

"…I didn't say that." Tharja exhaled deeply. "…I just still don't completely consent to this arrangement. She's young…and fragile…and I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her. God knows what kind of disgusting predators are seizing this opportunity to prey on unsuspecting children."

Before she could continue, she was stopped abruptly by the presence of Sumia's hand on her shoulder. Tharja stared in disbelief from the gesture.

"I promise Noire will never leave my sight", she smiled weakly, "you have my word."

Despite her reluctance, the Pegasus Knight's words were still incredibly reassuring, enough for Tharja to nod with a "thank you."

"Muuuuum, can we go yet?"

The impatient cry of the young pig-tailed girl interrupted the two adults' conversation, and Sumia flashed a bashful smile. "I guess that's our cue to leave."

Migrating down the hallway towards the front door, Tharja observed with uncertainty as Noire was escorted by Cynthia, clutching her hand tightly. Arriving at the door, the young archer turned around to face her mother.

Composing herself, Tharja folded her arms. "You aren't to wander off by yourself – you are to stay with Cynthia's mother at all times, understand?"

Expecting a timid response, Noire instead answered with an understanding nod. "I will, Mother, I p-promise."

Although Sumia's supportive smile and her husband's gentle hands on her shoulders were more than reassuring, it was her daughter's short words Tharja accepted the most.

And with a weak wave of her hand, Tharja bid her daughter farewell.


	14. Wrapped Around Your Finger

There weren't many things Tharja could actively accept that made her uncomfortable, but reuniting with her husband's parents was definitely one. Tharja didn't dislike Virion's family; that notion couldn't be further from the truth. Ever since she had first been introduced to them, they'd been nothing short of incredible; they were polite, inviting and welcoming, and she couldn't express how grateful she was. However, Tharja still couldn't help but fear they didn't truly accept or approve of her, whether for her character, lineage or profession; she couldn't tell nor did she really wish to find out.

Still, she agreed to accompany her family despite her reluctance; it _had_ been quite some time since they last returned. Her loving husband and especially their ecstatic daughter were very eager to return, so in an effort to prevent disappointing them, Tharja adopted a positive demeanour.

As expected, the return of the former Duke of Rosanne was celebrated with a wondrous reception, one that Tharja was reluctantly involved in. As her husband eagerly reacquainted himself and their daughter sheepishly introduced herself, Tharja tried her best to appear positive, but the growing uneasiness and fear of judgement from the members of the kingdom prevented any and all interactions.

A celebration was held in the palace's garden, and while Noire eagerly accepted the invitation, Tharja announced she was going to turn in early. Despite encouragement from the citizens, and especially her family, she politely declined and migrated back to her allocated bedroom suite, electing to enjoy the festivities from the seclusion of the room's balcony, away from the company of others.

* * *

Tharja observed the celebration below with growing despondency. How she wished she could participate – the thought of sharing the evening with her family excited her – but deep down the dark mage knew _that_ wasn't possible; despite her husband's encouragement, she _knew_ she didn't belong.

Sighing remorsefully, Tharja abandoned her surveying and migrated back inside. She wasn't tired – she'd merely used that as an excuse not to participate – but after gazing at the bed, she elected to turn in early after all; anything to try and dispel the conflicting emotions she was experiencing.

Just as she was about to retrieve a book, a gentle knock emerged from the door, prompting Tharja to investigate. Standing on the outside of the door was Virion's mother, smiling gently. Behind the elderly woman was a young maid cradling a tray of tea and assorted biscuits.

"Forgive me for appearing unannounced, my dear" began Virion's mother in a soft, whispered voice, "but may I come in? I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, not at all, milady" answered Tharja, fidgeting with her gown. After some reluctance, she gestured inside. "…Of course."

The Queen of Rosanne smiled politely and slowly made her way inside, clutching the maid's arm for support as she carefully approached the small seating arrangement s. As she sat, Tharja watched with uncertainty as the maid gently placed the tray of refreshments down before bowing politely and taking her leave.

Visibly shaking, Virion's mother retrieved the kettle and poured some tea, offering the beverage.

"I'm…fine, thank you, milady", declined Tharja politely.

The elderly woman laughed softly. "Please" she whispered, "there's no need for formalities; you are more than welcome to address me by Adalicia."

Tharja nodded.

After placing her saucer down, the Queen smiled sincerely. "It's so wonderful that you could visit, Tharja. It feels like a lifetime has passed since last we met."

Both surprised and relieved to hear the elderly woman's announcement, Tharja acknowledged with a weak smile.

"Are you comfortable in here, my dear, because if there is anything at all you request, you need but ask."

Tharja shook her head softly."There's no need. I'm…I'm very comfortable. Thank you for everything."

For the next few minutes, Tharja engaged in polite and respectful conversation with her husband's mother, discussions rotating around a range of topics and subjects. While Tharja was still a little uneasy to communicate, she came to enjoy the time she spent with the older woman, answering all of the woman's questions and queries to the best of her knowledge.

"Virion tells me Noire wishes to pursue archery."

Tharja nodded. "Yes, she's…she's become very passionate about it."

"Rosanne is home to some of the most skilled and proficient archers in all the lands, as you might know. During your stay here, I'd be more than willing to arrange some tutorials and demonstrations for her, if you wish."

Tharja smiled appreciatively. "…I'm sure she'd really love that."

After several more exchanges, a session of comfortable silence emerged, and Tharja took the time to gather her thoughts. It was during this time when the dark mage observed an expression of sorrow develop on the elderly woman's face as she placed her empty cup down.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you certain everything is fine? During tonight's meal, I couldn't but notice how refrained you were from speaking. If there is anything myself or anybody else has done to upset you, I will rectify the injustice immediately."

Remorseful, Tharja shook her head. "No, that's not…that isn't the case at all" she confessed desperately, "I'm…I'm just conflicted."

"About what, if you don't mind me asking?"

Anticipating where the conversation was going on, Tharja tried her very best to find the appropriate words to express her concerns; she didn't wish to share what was bothering her, but her mother-in-law still deserved to know.

"Just…just some trivial issues I've already exhausted myself over" she confessed bitterly, "things I've already discussed with Virion…things, on countless occasions, he's reassured me I shouldn't be concerned about."

"And what might these issues be?"

Exhaling deeply, Tharja averted her gaze. "…I don't believe I deserve any of this…"

"Deserve what, my dear?"

" _This_ " answered Tharja anxiously, gesturing to the environment around her, "your unbelievable services and hospitality, _this_ kind of reception…", she bit her lip, "…my family…"

Out of the corner of her eye, Tharja observed a quivering hand extended gently towards her.

"Why do you believe such a thing?" Adalicia smiled positively.

Tharja answered desperately. "Because of my…"

She hesitated, realising what she was about to profess was very controversial. Instead, she continued to observe as the elderly woman nodded softly with an understanding smile.

"I think I understand."

"…You know by now that I am not of Ylissean descent?"

Adalicia shook her head softly. "And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that" she reassured, "your lineage and heritage is not of concern. The quarrel between our kingdom and Plegia has long since been resolved; we are happily at peace."

"...But that still doesn't excuse everything I've done…"

Having let her emotions envelop her, Tharja spoke desperately. "I want you to know that I _never_ supported that madman or his twisted ideologies for the future of Plegia…but if anybody were to try and defy his leadership, he would have executed them without hesitation…and I couldn't begin…"

Her voice trailed into silence when she witnessed the elderly woman raised her hand politely.

"There is no need to apologise. During the times of conflict and tragedy, we all do what we must in order to preserve, and you are no exception."

Tharja closed her eyes. "That doesn't justify all the countless sins I committed."

For what seemed like an eternity, the room fell to a deathly silence as Tharja bitterly resented herself for sharing her concerns; if the Queen of Rosanne didn't already dislike her, she was certainly going to after everything the dark mage had professed.

Tharja was then treated to a soft but evocative exhale from the elderly woman.

"It's hard to say who deserves judgement for their actions." The elderly woman poured herself another cup. "I don't believe there exists a…a higher being that dictates who really deserves to atone and doesn't. Every living being on this Earth harbours their own individual crosses to burn", she retrieved the cup, "myself included."

The elderly woman sighed softly. "During my time, I have witnessed countless souls let their pursuit for redemption and atonement cloud their judgement."

Her words resonated deeply; Tharja knew exactly who she was referring to.

"But I have come to learn not to judge others of their culture, their lineage, ideologies or profession" continued Adalicia, "but of their character and disposition." She smiled warmly. "And Tharja, you are nothing short of an amazing individual."

Tharja stared in astonishment.

"You aren't but just a wonderfully caring, compassionate and committed mother and wife - you're a deeply beloved and cherished member of our family." The elderly woman laughed softly. "I cannot begin to thank you for everything you've done for us, and especially my son. I could not be more privileged and honoured to call such a beautiful woman my daughter-in-law."

Staring in bewilderment, Tharja couldn't even begin to process everything she had just received about her; such incredible appraisal was something she had never experienced. One thing was certain, however: it was unlike anything she had ever heard before.

Steadying her breathing, Tharja spoke nervously. "I'm…I'm sorry, f-forgive me…I just…I don't know what to say…"

Adalicia shook her head and offered a serviette. "There's no need."

"No…I…", responded Tharja as she accepted the item. Drying her eyes, she bowed her head politely. "Thank you, milady."

"It is _I_ who should be thanking you."

Before Tharja could object and try to express her sincerest gratitude, another knock emerged from the door. Hastily wiping any tears from her cheeks, she turned around to observe as another maid politely entered and carefully escorted a young girl inside. The dark mage immediately observed Noire's tangled hair and slouched posture.

" _Someone_ has tuckered themselves out" announced the maid.

Standing to her feet, Tharja gestured for Noire to follow.

"Mother" protested Noire in between a deep yawn, "I'm not…tired." She rubbed her eyes furiously.

"No, _you're_ exhausted. Come, it's time for bed."

Turning back to her husband's mother, Tharja observed as the elderly woman smiled with delight over her granddaughter's mannerisms before turning back to the dark mage.

"I will take my leave then" announced Adalicia as the female maid arrived by her side to assist her to her feet. As she was carefully escorted to the door, Tharja watched as she turned around and bowed her head politely. "Goodnight."

* * *

After assisting her sluggish daughter undress into her pajamas, Tharja gently escorted Noire towards the queen-sized bed. Although she had been allocated her own room upon arrival, Noire objected to sleeping by herself in an unfamiliar location and politely requested to stay with her mother.

Upon removing the quilt covers, Noire drowsily crawled into bed, immediately nestling herself into a comfortable position and closing her eyes.

Collecting her daughter's clothing, Tharja observed a small blue ribbon attached to the shirt. Retrieving it, Tharja brought it closer to her eyes for inspection.

"And what's this?"

Noire stirred awake and smiled sheepishly. "I g-got first in a race."

Tharja smiled triumphantly, "that's my girl", and extinguished the bedside candle before approaching the door.

"Are you c-coming to bed?"

Turning back to her uncertain daughter, Tharja nodded. "I will, soon."

"Where are you g-going?"

Opening the door, Tharja smiled uncertainly. "…I'm going to find your father. I can't allow him to enjoy the festivities any further…without me."

And with that, Tharja bid her daughter goodnight and gently closed the door behind her.


	15. So Lonely (Part 1)

After disposing of any dirt or dust from his suit, the charismatic archer continued to comb his hair leisurely. Admiring his craftsmanship, Virion raised a mischievous eyebrow before smiling merrily for the mirror; even after so many years, he still never tired of indulging himself.

Satisfied, Virion nodded assertively and retrieved the valuable item he had been protecting for over a month. Opening the container's lid to reassure himself it was still intact, he exhaled with relief; his presentation for the night required absolute careful timing and execution.

After bidding his reflection "adieu", exited the master-bedroom and began to approach the end of the hallway. The doting father was proud to see his thirteen year old daughter waiting patiently by the front door; her bag of clothing and sleeping arrangements was beside her.

Greeting her father with joyous praise over his appearance, Virion bowed respectfully and politely asked to inspect her bag to see if she remembered to include her 'manners'. Bashfully, Noire reassured him she would behave herself, reminding him she was a teenager now.

Although it wasn't really any of her business, Noire eagerly inquired as to what her father had prepared for the evening but, with a playful wink, Virion answered that it was a surprise. Seeing the disappointment on her face, Virion reassured her she would be able to attend next time - as a family together – but for that night, it was an event exclusive for the parents. Reassuring him she wasn't disheartened, she eagerly congratulated him once more.

A faint announcement from behind them made the azure-haired pair turn to inspect. Approaching them with her arms folded was their cherished wife and mother, respectively, in a dark-purple waist-length corset dress with black nylons covering her arms and legs, and dark nails, eyeliner and lipstick.

Captivated by his enchanting wife, Virion extended a hand dramatically. "The resplendent beauty - such grace, such elegance – like an ethereal goddess descending from the heavens."

"…You look amazing, Mother."

Their comments and observations made Tharja avert her eyes as she glided past them, avoiding their gazes.

"Let's just get this over with."

* * *

After escorting their daughter to the home of Cordelia and Henry, Noire eagerly bid her parents farewell, wishing them the very best for their time together. After a short arrangement with Cordelia, she explained she'd be awake should they ever wish to retrieve Noire early, but also reassured she was more than welcome to spend the night. Virion thanked her for her service; Tharja remained silent.

Arriving outside the highly respected and acclaimed restaurant, Virion politely held the door open; after some reluctance, Tharja entered. After a moment of preparation, a young staff member escorted them to their designated seating table. The archer politely removed a chair and gestured for his wife to seat. After her acceptance, he took his own.

Immediately upon entering, Virion wasted no time in eagerly absorbing the restaurant's atmosphere, its decorated interior, and the exotic scents originating from the kitchen; the tranquility and exuberance he was experiencing was exactly how he felt in Rosanne.

However, a short exchange revealed his reclusive wife didn't reciprocate his sentiments as she gazed intently at the candle illuminated in the centre of their table. Before he could extend a hand towards her, a waitress appeared with the restaurant's menu.

Inspecting the catalogue of meals, Virion brought a finger to his chin. "The grilled chicken breasts with garlic sound divine."

Returning to his wife, he observed as Tharja didn't inspect the menu but instead addressed the waitress. "Caesar salad, thank you."

When the waitress took her leave, Virion smiled supportively. "Quite a light meal for an evening such as this, don't you think?"

Tharja shrugged. "I'm not very hungry."

Virion gestured towards the menu. "I will not oppose to sharing a meal if you haven't the appetite."

"…There's no need."

It wasn't long before anther waiter appeared and offered the two a glass of wine. While Virion accepted a glass, Tharja politely asked for only half and, upon receiving it, drummed her fingers around the surface – a gesture Virion observed with concern.

Clearing his throat, Virion raised his glass. "May I propose a toast?"

"...If you wish."

Disheartened to see his wife in such a state, Virion placed his glass down. "Would I be impolite in asking why you refrain from speaking?"

"I'm fine."

Sensing something was amiss, Virion sighed remorsefully. "We may leave, if you wish."

Tharja shook her head. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll manage."

After concluding, Tharja returned to concentrating on something situated behind her husband only for her to avert her gaze once more. Curious, Virion turned to inspect. Gathered at a grand table behind them was a party of noblemen and women. Upon making eye contact, several members of the table turned their attention away from Virion and return to subtle whispering and murmuring. Although he couldn't quite deduce what they were speaking, he did, unfortunately, interpret one word exchanged: 'Plegian.'

Sighing with discontent, Virion returned to his wife remorsefully. "Forgive me, I hadn't intended for these types of patrons to…"

He nodded assertively. "I will confront them."

Before he could move, he hesitated when Tharja abruptly extended a hand. "Don't" she whispered hastily, "it…it doesn't matter. I've come to expect this kind of reaction." She returned to cradling her glass.

Wounded by her confession, Virion hung his head apologetically. "Please, forgive me for my insensitivity. I never meant to subject you to this…unjustified and disgraceful judgement."

Biting her lip, Tharja addressed him in the eyes. "I'm fine, really" she protested desperately, "I've… _you've_ done nothing wrong…this is _my_ burden to carry." She closed her eyes slowly. "If I'd known that you had arranged these reservations in advance, I _may_ have objected." The dark mage shook her head. "…I'm so sorry, I…I know how much this means to you…b-but I…I just don't do well in public."

Bitterly resenting himself, the archer folded his hands in his lap and hung his head; regretful and repentant for neglecting to acknowledge his wife's condition. "I apologise" he whispered, "I should have approached you first before I arranged anything. Gods, strike me down for my careless and self-centered egotism!"

"This says nothing about _you_. You haven't done anything wrong – it's _my_ pathetic, feeble ineptitude." She folded her arms before averting her gaze.

Virion couldn't accept her protest; after all, _he_ had been the one to arrange the restaurant reservations – there was nobody to blame but himself. Nodding understandingly, Virion pushed his chair out and stood up. "…I understand, I'll inform the staff of our leave."

Before he could approach the counter, he stopped abruptly when a warm hand clutched him by his wrist, prompting him to stare down expectantly at his wife who assertively gestured for him to sit. Complying, he observed Tharja's serious demeanor soften.

"…I know of the effort you've gone to celebrate this event – how much this means to you – and for _you_ I will preserve."

Shocked by her announcement, he offered a proposal. "I do not object to returning home."

Tharja shook her head softly. "No, I want to stay."

Virion stared curiously.

The dark mage continued, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. "… _This_ …is a very special occasion – one that I could _never_ have anticipated to achieve – and I intend to cherish it; nothing will dissuade me from enjoying myself tonight…with my husband." Upon concluding, a small but passionate smile developed.

Although he would have gladly accepted to leave, the courage and passion his often reclusive wife displayed was nothing short of inspiring. Nodding softly, Virion reassured they would not stay for long. Tharja gratefully accepted his proposal.

Polite and engaging conversations were exchanged between the archer and dark mage as they attended to their meals. Although it wasn't quite his business, his wife's comment was still provoking a great deal of intrigue and curiosity.

Wiping his mouth with a serviette, Virion ploitely smile. "I apologise for my intrusiveness, but would milady be so kind as to elaborate on what she insinuated by 'never have anticipated'"?

Upon hearing this, Tharja lowered her gaze. "Never mind, that was just a slip of the tongue…"

"Oh, would you please? I'd very much like to know; my curiosity is peaked."

" _N_ o" she answered sternly.

Nodding understandingly, he returned to his meal. "Very well then, I will not inquire any further." A small, playful smile emerged. "I just certainly hope you weren't expressing your concern over the longevity of our union together."

Tharja stared at him, unamused. "You _know_ that's not what I meant."

From her reaction, Virion gestured for her to continue.

Exhaling, Tharja rolled her eyes. "If you _must_ know…"

Although he had not expected her to proceed, Virion was more concerned by her expression of grief as she placed her cutlery down, averting her gaze.

"…When I decided to leave Plegia, I was determined to start anew – to abolish anything I associated with the kingdom, its inhabitants and its culture. I knew that my heritage and profession would not be accepted elsewhere, so I was prepared to spend the rest of my life in solitude…"

Remorseful, Virion began to deeply regret coercing her into sharing; it was evidently causing her discomfort.

Tharja shook her head softly. "I never could have expected to actually be welcomed back in society – to be blessed with the opportunity to fight alongside the Prince of Ylisse and his army, and restore peace to the kingdoms. It was…a life changing experience." She hesitated. "But most critically, I never could have expected to meet the man of my heart during a time of great conflict and tragedy."

After stopping to process her confession, Virion asked uncertainly. "Why is that? I've always strongly believed the unification of the kingdoms strengthened the bonds and ties between the ones we hold and cherish dearly – that experience only reinforced how important those relationships were."

Tharja stirred understandingly. "Perhaps, but during my time with the Sheppards I came to understand how…consequential relationships and friendships could be." She exhaled softly. "Love was a foreign concept to me. I never thought I could actually come to care about another being other than myself. Reflecting on my previous pursuits of affection, I finally realise just how… _possessive_ …I am."

Virion was disheartened to hear his wife speak so unforgivingly about herself. However, a small, impish smile appeared.

"If someone could have told me almost two decades ago that one day I would be celebrating the fifteenth anniversary of marriage with my husband - a member of the royal family of Rosanne – I would have done everything in my power to try and disprove them…because a future like that just wasn't plausible."

Concerned as to what she was insinuating, the disillusioned archer stared uncertainly. "You're displeased with the outcome?"

Tharja scoffed with amusement, shaking her head before smiling weakly for him. "No, of course not." She bit her lip. "I can't imagine a life without you, nor do I ever wish to experience such a thing."

Invigorated with surprise and delight over her beautiful profession, the charismatic archer with a heart beating feverishly acknowledged with a courteous smile before raising his glass once more. "Now, I believe _that_ deserves a toast."

With a small laugh, Tharja carefully raised her own and gently tapped it against her husband's.


	16. Truth Hits Everybody (Part 2)

Absentmindedly swirling her glass, Tharja continued to patiently wait for her husband to return. To occupy her time, she admired the restaurant's interior décor and design. Occasionally, her wandering eye would connect with another patron's, prompting her to avert; although the impolite party had taken leave, Tharja still harboured discomfort. It wasn't long before Virion returned.

"You took your time", Tharja mused, "I certainly hope you weren't planning an escape."

Virion chuckled. "Forgive me for my absence, but you know how much I value personal hygiene."

After being offered a refill of wine, Tharja politely declined before placing her glass down and gesturing towards him. "You were saying…"

"Pardon?"

Tharja caressed her arm. "You were going to say something…about me."

Virion furrowed his eyebrows before his pupils widened in realisation. "Oh, yes, quite right. Apologies - I was quite…distracted.

Curious as to what he had to share, Tharja waited expectantly while observing unusually reluctant mannerisms displayed by her husband.

"I was very much hoping to reassure you that the sentiment you beautifully professed is not unrequited."

"...What?"

Virion placed a hand over his chest. "I share your consensus wholesomely. I must confess, until I was graciously blessed with your company and being, I had not realised how incomplete and unfulfilled my life had been."

Tharja tried desperately to process his words. "How so?"

He shrugged bashfully. "I suppose one could say I was rather lost and mislaid before I met the one I cherish ever so."

Tharja was unsure if he was jesting. "How did you feel 'incomplete'? You're a member of royalty; you had everything."

Upon seeing the expression of shock emerge on his face, Tharja averted her gaze remorsefully. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I…"

Virion laughed dismissively. "Please, there's no offence. I understood what you referenced, and you have every right to propose that question."

He nodded with defeat. "Well, _yes_ , it does go without saying that I, myself, _had_ been blessed with a rather privileged and fortuitous upbringing – a honour that has not gone unappreciated. I am eternally grateful to have experienced such wonderful and remarkable opportunities my lineage and heritage could provide." He abruptly stopped. "Excuse me, I do not mean to sound entitled."

Tharja shook her head, disproving the notion.

Virion continued, albeit with increasing uncertainty, a quality Tharja hadn't witnessed in him in some time.

"Although I could not be more honoured to have experienced such a life, I could not hope to dispel the persistent thought that it still wasn't enough – that there was something much greater than me that I should have been pursuing." He sighed deeply. "You see, what come with notoriety, fortune and privileges are…expectations others have you and your actions. There's an unspoken responsibility a member of royal descent is expected to adopt and operate by, and that is to use our status and position for the betterment of the kingdom and its people, not our own selfish desires." A despondent expression developed. "…And as you know all too well, I did not fulfill my commitment."

He averted his gaze. "I knew the citizens of Rosanne would never accept me again for my actions – for selfishly abandoning them to ensure my own self-preservation – so exiling myself from the kingdom seemed the most just course of action; I did not deserve to call Rosanne my home anymore."

With sorrow in her heart, Tharja loathed herself for provoking him to expressing evidently confronting and hurtful memories. As her husband continued to share his dreadful experience of leaving his kingdom – memories she was not aware of – Tharja listened attentively.

"It was only when I received the proposal to accompany the Shepherds did I truly believe that, perhaps, I may just be able to redeem myself – to right the wrongs of my unforgivable actions. It was only then when I truly adopted the responsibilities of my position and dedicated myself to the protection of others."

He laughed weakly. "I came to know and care for so many remarkable beings from many different walks of lives during my time with the Shepherds – bonds and friendships I still hold dearly to this day. However, there wasn't a single other individual I encountered in my travels that I cherished, treasured and loved more…than you - an extraordinarily, passionate, beautiful woman who captured my heart. It was through her tireless compassion, devotion and love did I finally come to understand myself and what I had forgotten, and I could never begin to express my gratitude."

Averting her gaze, Tharja retrieved her glass. "…You make it sound as if I saved your life."

"In many respects, you did – if not for you I'd still be carelessly endangering myself." He chuckled with amusement before adopting a serious demeanour. "Out of everyone else I came to know and cherish during my experience with the Shepherds, it was you above all others who provided me with the strength and willpower I so desperately needed to continue fighting", he placed a hand over his heart, "in the pursuit that, perhaps, one day I may be able to release myself of my past and move forward."

Although she never tired of her husband's poetic professions, Tharja couldn't dispel the feeling she didn't deserve such praise. "I only said what needed to be said. You don't honestly think of me that way, do you…because I'm not like that."

Virion sighed dismissively. "The lady doth protest too much methinks." He smiled warmly. "I _do_ hold you in that regard – you've taught a self-entitled, pompous nobleman what true joy and exuberance feels like, and I could not be more enraptured or honoured to be celebrating fifteen marital years of this life-changing experience with such a passionate, affectionate, dedicated woman – a beloved wife and mother."

The archer waited for a signal of acknowledgement from his wife but no such reaction emerged as she just continued to stare.

"I apologise, I did not intend to..."

Tharja shook her head. "No…no, it's fine." She closed her eyes with an exhale. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

Smiling appreciatively, Virion nodded understandingly.

* * *

Having concluded with their meal, a waitress offered to take an order for a serve of dessert, and while Virion eagerly accepted, Tharja politely declined.

Concluding his wife's renewed absence from speaking was a signal she was ready to leave, Virion was about to propose the offer when Tharja suddenly addressed him.

"May I ask you something?"

Alarmed by her urgency, Virion gestured for her to continue.

Tharja hesitated. "… _This_ is something of critical importance, and you need to answer me with complete and total honesty – don't lie or exaggerate – understand?"

"Of course. I would never do anything of the sort."

The dark mage acknowledged. Virion could only wait in bated anticipation as he observed his wife develop a demeanour of doubt and uncertainty.

"…Do you think I'm a bad parent?"

"Sorry?" Virion's eyebrows furrowed.

"You heard me."

Virion shook his head anxiously. "No, or course not."

Tharja folded her arms. "…I thought you said you wouldn't lie."

"I _haven't_." He placed a hand over his chest. "I swear I speak only the truth – you're the most wonderfully caring being I know."

His pleading words didn't resonate as Tharja averted her gaze.

Virion hesitated. "Did you not expect me to denounce this notion?"

"No" she answered hastily, "I didn't…I…I…thought…"

Struggling to speak, Tharja exhaled with frustration as she rubbed her arm uncomfortably.

"…Why do you believe you this so?" He observed as Tharja returned to him, visibly conflicted.

"…She's an adolescent now – she's ever so close to becoming an adult – and…yet, after all these years, she can _still_ barely speak a word to me. I…I don't understand – am I _really_ that unapproachable?"

Virion immediately shook his head. "No, that isn't the case at all." He smiled reassuringly. "You _know_ she's always experienced difficulty communicating and expressing herself with others."

" _Yes_ , others – she shouldn't with her family."Exhaling deeply, she addressed him in the eyes. "When I see the two of you together - when I witness how well _you_ communicate with her - I can't help but feel…"

She placed a hand over her chest. " _That's_ all I could ever want…"

Virion stopped to process her confession, loathing himself for never understanding how she felt about her relationship with their child; he didn't know she harboured such a burden.

"When I look at our beautiful child, I also see her mother."

Tharja stared in disbelief. " _How_? She's inherited _everything_ from _you_ ; your hair, your speech, your nature, your passion for archery. What could you possibly see in her of _me_?"

"Your compassion and benevolence."

Steading her breathing, Tharja stared in astonishment.

"I promise you, Tharja, you have _not_ failed to fulfill your role as a parent; if anything, you have exceeded." Virion laughed softly. " _She_ loves you more than life itself. You aren't but a mother and guardian to her – you're an inspiration. She idolises you - she aspires to be like you - and that is a quality _I_ could only dream to achieve with her."

Smiling supportively, Virion hoped very much his words would reassure his wife. In bated anticipation, he observed as Tharja averted her attention with a strangled exhale, visibly concentrating. After a moment of reluctance, she whispered.

"…Do you really believe so?"

Virion nodded confidently. "I _know_ your love and devotion for our daughter is immeasurable, and she reciprocates your sentiments a hundredfold. I don't believe she could ask for a more loving and protective mother."

Tharja scoffed weakly. "… _I_ wouldn't call myself a role model."

"She would propose otherwise."

Tharja exhaled deeply. "So...so you don't think there's any aspect for me to improve upon…because I hardly feel like the mother she deserves…"

Although he wanted to disprove her inquiry, Virion could help but process her question as he reflected on their daughter's experience into adolescence and the increasing distance between her and her mother.

With some reluctance, Virion answered. "Please, do not misinterpret me – I mean absolutely no offence - but if you _were_ to approach me, I'd propose you could possibly try spending more time with her."

The dark mage stared at him attentively.

"Adolescence – it can be quite a difficult and overwhelming experience for a blossoming child – changes and developments in their mind, body and so forth – and being a male, there's so only so much I can do to support our _daughter_ within the boundaries of my knowledge and experience."

He hesitated to continue, struggling to express the appropriate words. "I apologise if I sound misguided."

"No…no, I understand what you're saying." Tharja lowered her gaze. "I…I _will_. I will _try_ , I promise." She hesitated, "I just…I don't have any real experience with motherho-"

She shook her head. "No, you're right…I will do what I must for her."

Relieved and reassured, Virion acknowledged with a smile.

Before Tharja could exchange another word, she watched curiously as Virion developed a frightened express as he anxiously inspected every pocket and enclosure of his attire.

"What?" Tharja's eyebrows furrowed.

He smiled nervously. "Oh, apologies. I just…I just appear to have misplaced something." He inspected the table before hastily looking below his seat.

Tharja was starting to become concerned. " _What_?"

"Excuse me, is something the matter?"

Tharja turned her attention to the waitress beside them cradling a covered tray.

"Forgive me for performance" answered Virion, "but I seem to have lost a very important item from my pocket."

With a small smile, the waitress removed the lid to reveal a small, fabric box beneath. Virion exclaimed with joy and relief. Tharja stared in disbelief.

"Ah, _there_ it is" proclaimed Virion as the waitress migrated beside the dark mage, offering it.

Tharja studied the item as if it were a foreign object, growing increasingly concerned over what was unfolding. Unexpectedly, a soft melody enveloped the air as a pair of violinists emerged beside the table. A quick glance towards her husband's infectious smile only confirmed he was behind the arrangement.

" _What have you done_?"

He smiled passionately. "I too only wish to cherish and celebrate this grand occasion."

Tharja watched with uncertainty as Virion stood up and extended a hand. With some reluctance, she accepted and was brought to her feet. Immediately, Tharja could feel the gazes and stares from the other restaurant patrons over the unexpected development.

With a passionate smile, Virion retrieved the item, opened the lid and presented it before her. The breath was sucked from her when she witnessed the small ring encased inside.

"Happy anniversary, my love", he announced, prompting the restaurant to erupt into applause.

The unwanted attention from her surroundings should have been a instinctual signal for Tharja to retreat...but for that moment she didn't care; it didn't even occur to her where she was or what she was doing. Instead, her attention was fixated on her husband.

She accepted the item, carefully inserting it over her finger. "...Thank you, I love you too" she whispered before placing her arms around him and bringing him into an embrace.


	17. Don't Stand So Close to Me

"This is beneath me."

Her husband chuckled with delight. "Surely you aren't above a little harmless amusement?"

Frustrated, Tharja scratched beneath the blindfold. "I _am_ when at the expense of my vision!"

"It's…only a little further, M-mother", whispered Noire softly.

Tharja exhaled with exasperation. Her fourteen year old daughter's word weren't nearly enough reassurance for her growing restlessness. After being awoken early from her slumber, she demanded to know why they insisted on blindfolding her, but only received whimsical, cryptic answers. The closest to a conclusive response was 'it's a surprise.' The very thought irritated her; Tharja hated surprises.

After descending the stairs with assistance, Tharja listened as her husband gave her permission to remove the blindfold. Tharja didn't need to be told twice and impatiently untied it, and the sight before her was one she never could have anticipated.

Studying the arrangement of candles, flowers and bowls of fruit presented, Tharja folded her arms. "What's this?"

Gliding gracefully towards the table, Virion removed the chair and gestured towards it. "A very special occasion" he began courteously," and a little arrangement we've prepared to express our gratitude and love for the most caring, thoughtful, attentive", he whispered seductively, " _and beautiful_ …woman to ever grace our lives."

"What?" She turned her attention to Noire who smiled eagerly.

"It's Mother's Day."

The dark mage stopped to process the statement. After performing the calculations in her mind, she realised they were telling the truth – it was indeed May the 14th. However, Tharja saw no reason celebrate.

"And?"

Tharja observed her daughter's disappointment. "We just…we wanted to celebrate."

Turning to her husband, the archer wore a demeanor of sympathy as he smiled weakly. Disheartened to see her family in such a state, Tharja exhaled with defeat. "Fine."

Virion signaled towards Noire who acknowledged with a smile, retrieving something from the kitchen bench. Before Tharja could inquire further, her husband gestured for her to take a seat. Begrudgingly, she complied. Noire returned with a plate in hand.

"And this is?"

Noire smiled eagerly. "Oh, banana pancakes…with blueberries and sliced peaches." She bowed politely. "I hope you enjoy…"

Her husband's insistent smile was enough for Tharja to retrieve a slice with her fork. The dish smelled intoxicating, and as soon as she inserted it into her mouth, she discovered it tasted just as much, if not more. Almost immediately, Tharja's tongue was graced with an explosion of sweet flavours and sensations she had yet to experience.

As her daughter continued to wait expectantly, Tharja wiped her mouth with a serviette. "It's very nice."

Noire smiled infectiously. "Oh, th-thank you, M-mother. It was no trouble at all."

Tharja observed the stains on her daughter's clothes. "Are you sure - the evidence suggests otherwise."

Wiping her hands anxiously across her chest, Noire hung her head. "W-well, F-father was here too…but I really wanted to try and prepare it by myself. I just…I needed a little help. I hope you don't mind."

Exchanging a glance at her husband, he nodded accordingly. After exhaling softly, Tharja acknowledged for her daughter.

"You've done well, Noire. Your skills have definitely improved."

Beaming ecstatically, Noire bowed her head. "Thank you, I'm… _so_ happy to hear that."

Before Tharja could exchange another word, her charismatic husband clapped his hands audibly. "Well, now that milady's appetite has been satisfied, I do believe it's time move onto the next article on this morning's agenda."

Tharja didn't have time to process his cryptic announcement as Virion swiftly produced a small box with blue fabric from his pocket, and presented it before her.

He smiled sincerely, "for you, my resplendent beauty."

Studying the item, Tharja retrieved it and brought it closer for inspection, a mischievous grin appearing on her lips. "Ooh, I hope it's a hand."

Her sinister muse made Noire recoil with surprise. Virion, however, chuckled. "My deepest apologies. No discarded appendages, my dear; this time at least."

Scoffing, Tharja wasted no time in removing the ribbon seal and gently opening the hinged lid…and the contents of the container sucked the breath from her being.

Inside was a golden headpiece - not unlike the ones she normally wore – but the most distinguishable quality was her husband's handwriting on the back's surface: _Tharja, my one and only._ The delicate inscription brought a warm sensation to her cheeks.

Tharja turned to her husband accusingly. " _Where_ did you get this?"

Virion smiled sincerely. "A commission handcrafted by the finest and most respected jewelers in all of Rosanne."

During his answer, Tharja continued to study the gift intently, a great deal of emotions beginning to overwhelm her.

"May I see it?"

Turning to her daughter, Noire's expression was one of amazement and curiosity as well; Tharja ventured she _too_ was unaware of the container's contents. Carefully, Tharja extended her hand and Noire retrieved it gently.

Tharja could only watch as Noire inspected the item eagerly. "…It's so pretty", she whispered and offered the item back.

"It's beautiful" whispered Tharja, before carefully placing it back in its case. Returning to her husband, Tharja could not find the appropriate words to her express her gratitude and appreciation; instead, a small, weak smile emerged.

Virion acknowledged with a graceful bow before smiling courteously. "Now", he gestured towards their daughter, "I do believe our Noire has prepared something special as well."

On cue, Noire folded her hands. "Oh, yes…but I…I've left it upstairs. May I be excused?"

As Virion nodded approvingly, Noire bid farewell and eagerly ascended the stairs. Even with their child occupied elsewhere, Tharja couldn't begin to process everything that had happened; she was completely mystified.

" _This_ …all this wasn't necessary."

Virion smiled warmly. "No, perhaps not, but for the sake of the woman we both love and cherish with all our hearts, your daughter and I would have gladly exhausted ourselves."

"Well, you've certainly outdone yourself this time."

"I had little to no part with the preparation." Virion gestured towards the stairs.

Tharja furrowed her eyebrows. "This was _her_ idea?"

The archer nodded. "She insisted on presenting something special."

Before Tharja could process the development, she hesitated when she witnessed her husband take a seat beside her with an uncharacteristically sympathetic expression.

"What she's retrieving form upstairs – it's something she has labored away at for days, frequently referring to me for judgement and critique." He sighed softly. "She has worked zealously on this project, so may I ask you to please be respectful and understanding?"

Alarmed by his tone and request, Tharja stared with confusion. "Of course, why would I not?"

He smiled appreciatively.

No less than a few seconds later did her daughter return, a purple envelope held tightly against her chest. As Noire approached her parents, she bowed respectfully. "Sorry" she whispered before eagerly presenting the item, "Happy M-mother's Day."

Tharja was about to accept the mysterious gift when Virion intervened.

"Noire,"would you like to recite it?"

Noire hesitated before smiling nervously. "Oh, OK." She removed a piece of paper from inside. Tharja continued to stare in anticipation.

Clutching the paper tightly, Noire smiled politely. "It's a poem" she announced, "I've written it about…you."

The innocence behind her daughter's confession made Tharja smile with amusement. "A poem? Really?"

She hadn't intended to be insulting, but the disheartened expression developing on Noire's face suggested otherwise. "It's just an acrostic one."

Her daughter's demeanor made Tharja reflect upon her remark and condescending tone; she _had_ just promised him she would be respectful, and she'd already gone back on her word. Turning to the man in question, he too bared a sympathetic expression, evidently disappointed.

Tharja stirred uncomfortably before returning to her daughter. "…I'm sorry", she politely gestured towards the paper, "please…"

Smiling apologetically, Noire acknowledged with a nod before unfolding the paper, and taking a deep breath.

" _MOTHERLY,_

 _'_ _M' is for m-meaningful, maternal and magnificent_

 _'_ _O 'is for ov-overwhelmed, which is how I feel…every time we're together_

 _'_ _T' is for Tharja_ – obviously – _the most wonderful mother I could ever ask for_

 _'_ _H' is for h-heart, because hers is bigger th-than any other's_

 _'_ _E' is for eternally - that's how m-much I love her_

 _'_ _R' is for role model; she's the one per-person I only dream I could be l-like_

And finally, ' _L' and 'Y'…for 'love' and 'you'…because 'I' love you._ "

At the conclusion of her poem, Virion clapped softly prompting Noire to bow sheepishly. Tharja, however, couldn't do anything else but stare in astonishment, an unfamiliar warm sensation gracing her cheeks.

"You wrote that about _me_?"

Noire nodded bashfully. "W-well, we've been studying poetry in English, a-and students have been instructed to write a poem of th-their own…using any format…and s-since Mother's Day was approaching…I thought…"

Her voice trailed off into silence.

Before Tharja could produce any response, Virion spoke first.

"You've done very well, my dear" he praised courteously. "I may not have been the addressee of your piece, but I'm still very proud of you. You've demonstrated remarkable courage, compassion and love."

"Thank you, Father."

Afterwards, the young girl turned her attention back to her mother, eager for a response. Unfortunately, Tharja was at a loss for words, still struggling to try and process everything she had just been read. Instead of an answer, Tharja averted her attention.

Sensing the developing tension, Virion clapped audibly. "Come, Noire. We'll leave your mother to enjoy her breakfast. In the meantime, there's still an entire day's worth of activities to prepare for."

Disheartened, Noire acknowledged and began to accompany her Father out of the room, but not before gently placing the envelope on the table.

Tharja was greeted with a weak wave of farewell before the young girl exited.

With her family occupied elsewhere, Tharja should not have hesitated to seize the opportunity and retrieve her jewel encrusted gift, but in this circumstance, she didn't; it didn't even cross her mind. Instead, Tharja hesitantly reached for the purple envelope.

Retrieving the poem, Tharja held her breath and unfolded it, studying it intently to try and absorb all the astonishing things her daughter had to say.

Sighing remorsefully, Tharja clutched the poem tightly to her chest.


	18. Spirits in the Material World

Because of her knowledge of sorcery and the mystic arts, throughout her life Tharja had developed an increasingly astute ability at sensing unexpected and unusual events; specifically, changes in atmosphere. The dark mage wasn't at all surprised or alarmed when she coiled her head to address the unaccounted visitor in her workstation.

"Yes, Noire?"

The young girl in question recoiled with embarrassment, startled to have been detected without so much as making a sound. With burning cheeks, the fifteen year old bowed her head apologetically.

"Oh, s-sorry Mother" she whispered, "I…really should have knocked. It's just…I know you don't like to be disturbed while you're working. F-forgive me."

With every passing day her daughter grew, so did the increasing, separating distance between them. Tharja reflected on this as she observed her apprehensive child, trying desperately to understand as to when the developing separation began.

As Noire continued to stare at the ground, Tharja folded her arms. "Is there something you need?"

Flustered, Noire shook her head. "Oh, no" she confessed, before beginning to fidget uncomfortably with her fingers, "w-well, there _is_ one thing..."

The fifteen year old bit her lip. "If you're really busy right now, I understand, and I don't mind returning at a more suitable time…b-because I'd hate to disturb you during your…"

Her daughter was rambling frantically once more, a habit Tharja observed that never emerged when the young girl was speaking with her father; Tharja still couldn't help but feel jealous of their relationship.

"S-sorry" whispered the young archer remorsefully, "I…I knew this was a bad idea…"

She migrated solemnly back towards the entrance.

Tharja closed the tome she was inspecting and stepped out from behind her desk. "Noire."

Hesitantly, the young girl returned her attention, and her frightened expression caused Tharja a great deal of concern.

Approaching her daughter closer, Tharja addressed her in the eyes. "What is it you need?"

Tharja observed as Noire returned to fidgeting uncomfortably, visibly conflicted and uncertain. Folding her hands politely, the young girl spoke softly.

"May I…speak with you about something, M-mother? Something…p-personal?"

Her daughter's unusual request made Tharja's eyebrows furrow; whenever Noire desired help or assistance, she always consulted Virion.

"Is this not something you can discuss with your father?"

The young girl returned her gaze to the floor. "W-well, I suppose I could" she confessed bashfully before shaking her head, "but I…I'm sorry, I'd very much prefer to talk with you."

Whatever was concerning daughter was causing a great deal of discomfort, and whatever it was must have been very private if the young girl wished to confide in the dark mage about it. Tharja couldn't remember the last time Noire had ever wished to speak with her about personal concerns.

Tharja nodded approvingly. "Very well."

A small but hopeful smile appeared on Noire's lips. "Oh, oh thank you, Mother. I…I _promise_ this won't take long…"

Tharja hadn't expected her daughter to express her thoughts immediately but the increasing silence from the young girl as she visibly concentrated was beginning to worry the dark mage.

"S-sorry" whispered Noire with a nervous smile, "it's just…I don't really know h-how to start. I…I _know_ what I want to say…but it's very…embarrassing…"

Tharja sighed, "Noire, if you don't wish to share with me-"

"No! No, I will!" Noire interjected desperately with vibrant cheeks, visibly humiliated and embarrassed.

Tharja observed curiously as Noire closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, folding her hands tightly over her waist. After opening them and nodding assertively, Noire addressed her mother in the eye with an uncertain expression.

"M-mother, do you th-think I'm…big?"

Her daughter's unexpected question made Tharja recoil with confusion. " _Big_?"

Noire nodded sheepishly.

Scanning the young girl from top to bottom, Tharja noticed they were almost of identical height. Tharja furrowed her eyebrows, "you're only a few inches shorter than I am."

Wincing with discomfort, Noire shook her head. "…That's not quite what I meant."

Puzzled as to what her daughter was insinuating, Tharja arrived at the next possible conclusion and asked politely. "Do you think you've gained weight?"

With burning cheeks, Noire folded her hands tightly. "W-well, yes…but in…one specific area…"

Trying desperately to process the cryptic answers, upon closer inspecting her daughter's mannerisms and gestures, Tharja arrived at what the young girl was insinuating when she covered her chest.

Tharja nodded understandingly. "…I see."

Even though Noire was still young and developing, she had already been graced with a moderately large bust, and the outfit she was wearing presented a healthy amount of cleavage; at her current size, her breasts were only a few cups smaller than her mother's.

Tharja could tell from her daughter's expression she was deeply humiliated for confessing such a thing. Exhaling softly, Tharja asked with genuine concern and sincerity. "Are you concerned about the size of your breasts?"

The girl in question, red with embarrassment, nodded weakly.

Shaking her head, Tharja adopted a serious tone. "You have no reason to be discouraged about this, Noire" she reassured, "you're simply experiencing the next stages of puberty. You're taking your first steps into adulthood - into becoming a woman."

Exhaling desperately, Noire nodded apologetically as her hands continued to clutch her chest. "…I know, _I know_ …" she whispered, "I'm…I'm probably just overreacting…it's just", she closed her eyes, "I just don't' know how I'm supposed to feel…"

Concerned, Tharja stepped towards her. "Are they causing you discomfort?"

Noire shook her head softly. "No…I haven't felt anything at all…I just wanted to talk with you about it."

Upon finishing her confession, the young girl averted her gaze with embarrassment.

Noire's poignant profession was one that resonated with Tharja as she stared at her daughter, uncertain of what to do. During her adolescence, Tharja _too_ had been blessed with a large bust, and the dark mage knew all too well of the kind of unwanted and undesired attention a healthy pair of breasts could attract.

Nodding assertively, Tharja spoke in a sincere tone. "I know of a remedial incantation that, when performed appropriately, can correct, adjust or even remove unwanted body features."

She observed as Noire returned to her with a curious expression.

"With the right resources, I may be able to…reduce the weight in your breasts to a more appropriate size, if you wish."

Tharja waited patiently and expectantly for an answer as her adolescent daughter averted her gaze, visibly concentrating over the proposal.

After what seemed like an eternity, Noire swallowed anxiously and returned with an earnest expression. "Thank you, Mother…but I can't…"

"You don't want me to?" Tharja asked uncertainly.

Tharja observed as Noire developed a serious demeanor, nodding assertively. "N-no" she spoke, "a-as much I'd like to…it wouldn't be right. To change my appearance – to change who _I_ am – would be wrong." She smiled nervously. "This… _this_ is the body I have been blessed with, and if I _am_ to become a woman one day, I must learn to a-appreciate myself for who I really am."

Staring in disbelief, Tharja couldn't believe what she had heard; she never could have expected her timid and often pessimistic young daughter to profess something like that.

Overwhelmed, Tharja answered seriously. "…That's very mature of you, Noire."

The young girl smiled bitter-sweetly, wiping her eyelid with her finger.

Hesitantly, Tharja continued. "But... _should_ you ever reconsider, I am more the prepared to perform the incantation."

Shaking her head politely, Noire answered. "Thank you, M-mother…but I don't believe that will be necessary. I am…happy…with my body." The young girl's lips began to tremble. "Thank you for l-listening. I'm just…I f-feel _so_ much b-better after talking with you."

Startled, Tharja recoiled when her young daughter suddenly enveloped her in a tight embrace, sobbing softly into the dark mage's shoulder. Biting her lip with uncertainty, Tharja whispered softly to her overwhelmed child as she gently caressed her daughter's head.

"Come now, there's no need for this…"


	19. Voices Inside My Head

The unbearable suspense enveloped the dark mage like a foreboding thundercloud of tension and dread as she continued to gaze intently at the hardwood floor. A glance towards the clock informed her as to how long she'd been waiting. Surveying the closed door at the end of the hallway, she anxiously prepared herself for a signal of relief or reassurance.

Her attention slowly returned to her husband beside her. Virion greeted her with a weak, reassuring smile, one that she couldn't hope to reciprocate. Having come to know the man intimately well, she'd become all too astute at studying his expressions and mannerisms; she could tell he wasn't himself.

Upon receiving a comforting inquiry, Tharja reassured she was stable, but his demeanour expressed he wasn't convinced. Humiliated, Tharja gingerly cradled her husband's hand for support. The gesture invited him to rub her thigh gently with the other. For what seemed like the first time in an eternity, Tharja was afraid.

The sound of a door unlocking was accompanied by footsteps. Virion and Tharja waited in bated fear and anticipation for the two beings they were expecting. It wasn't long before the shades of white and blue entered as the former tactician, Robin, escorted their sixteen year old daughter.

Tharja watched with sorrow as Noire timidly migrated towards Virion who immediately cradled her into an embrace, one she desperately reciprocated. However, instead of performing the same gesture, upon making eye contact Noire averted her gaze, anxiously avoiding the dark mage as she slowly took a seat. Tharja could only stare in anguish and disillusion.

Returning to the men, they too wore the same disheartened expressions of concern. Acknowledging, Robin gestured for the two to accompany him.

"Noire, would you mind if I share with your parents what you and I discussed?"

Tharja observed the evident demeanour of uncertainty and fear before Noire nodded with approval and returned to fidgeting with her sleeves.

* * *

Robin held the door open and politely escorted them inside, gesturing for the two parents to take a seat; the former tactician now counsellor seated himself in the chair opposite them.

With a weak smile, he began. "How have you two been?"

The unexpected question prompted Tharja to turn to Virion who, in turn, gingerly placed his hand on her thigh. She wrapped her hand around his.

"We're managing. This is all very difficult to process, and we're trying our best to remain positive for her."

Tharja nodded, reaffirming his answer.

"I see." Robin removed his glasses. "Please, do not think lesser of yourselves for your lack of understanding. You are not at fault. I really wish we could have become reacquainted with one another under better circumstances, I suppose-"

Tharja shut her eyes. "Can you please skip these formalities and just tell us what we need to know? _Please_?"

"My love" whispered Virion.

"No, it's fine. No…no, she's right. Please, forgive me for my insensitivity. I…I understand how difficult this must be for you, and I apologise for trying to make light of this situation."

Robin wasted no time in retrieving a document from the small table separating them. Tharja watched with uncertainty as Robin surveyed the paper.

"Before I begin, I must commend the both of you for your commitment. It was incredibly crucial you contacted a professional immediately for their guidance and advice. I apologise that I couldn't attend to her earlier. I had not expected to have received such an urgent arrangement, and not to mention my schedule has been quite busy this week."

" _We_ must thank you eternally for accepting an appointment", spoke Virion, "I do hope we aren't impeding."

"No, of course not."

Having being graced with a moment of silence, Tharja and Virion waited with anticipation and uncertainty for their former tactician to begin.

"I understand how difficult this must be - I can't even begin to imagine what you are experiencing right now - but you need to understand that this kind of behaviour is not uncommon during adolescence. In fact, it's believed that more than twenty percent of young adults will experience a mental health condition before they turn twenty-four, and there is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with that – it simply means that they may need some support and guidance on how to cope with it. The longevity of these experiences differs between individuals as well. For some, it only lasts for a few weeks, but for others it could continue for months or even years."

During his explanation, Tharja retrieved the glass of water from the table, listening attentively as he continued.

"I can assure you she is not the first young adult I have spoken with in her situation and she will not be the last. I work with anywhere between one and five individuals every day that are experiencing difficulty coping with something they might not fully understand, and Noire is no exception." He stopped abruptly, fidgeting with the paper. "Please don't misinterpret me, I don't mean to sound as if I'm…alleviating some of the urgency behind this situation. I understand how serious this is, I was just trying to explain how common this kind of behaviour is young adults.

"There's no need to apologise" reassured Virion earnestly, "it's…it's very reassuring to hear that she will be in safe and capable hands. Thank you once again for accepting."

Robin smiled appreciatively before the two men turned to the dark mage for her consensus. The tactician's honest explanation made Tharja reflect upon her own experiences during her adolescences, specifically the feelings of isolation and abandonment.

"…Thank you, I understand a little better now." Tharja sighed softly, "I wasn't at all unlike her when I was her age."

Cradling her husband's hand as he offered it, Tharja stared pleadingly. "I just…I just don't understand why she feels this way; what brought her to do something like _that_ ; why couldn't she tell us?"

Robin smiled comfortingly. "It's quite alright. Nobody really understands, myself included. Research has shown that this kind of behaviour – a lack of willpower, low self-esteem and anxiety – is often brought upon by chemical or hormonal imbalance, or the body over producing adrenaline." He traced a finger down the page. "She's demonstrated some of the most common symptoms of depression from what she's informed me: a lack of energy, loss of appetite, insomnia. Would these be correct?"

Tharja and Virion confirmed, sorrowfully.

"I see. If it were just these symptoms – if it were just a mild case of depression – I would not advise anything drastic. I _would_ ask you to monitor her behaviour a little more carefully, but nothing too serious." A demeanour of remorse emerged. "…I did not expect her to surpass that stage, to this point, and for this I'm truly sorry. I…I really wish there was something I could have done to have prevented this."

As Virion desperately reassured Robin he wasn't at fault, Tharja retreated back into in her thoughts, specifically to the horrifying experience of arriving home to find her daughter crying profusely in her bedroom.

"As for your questions", continued Robin, "it goes without saying individuals that have reached this stage in their mental illness are in a much more critical state than others, and must be approached with carefulness and sensitivity. From surveys conducted with patients, it's been widely accepted the most common reason for them to perform these actions is to achieve a feeling of…of relief… or abatement – that if by doing so they may be able to release themselves from the pain and suffering." He hung his head. "I apologise if I sound misdirected. Even after so many years working with young adults just like her, I still don't properly understand what motivates them."

Even though she and her husband reassured their former ally they weren't disappointed by his lack of knowledge – thanking him once more for his incredible service – Tharja's attention was still addressed to pursing as to why their daughter was experiencing such self-doubt and insecurity, and from Virion's contrite expression, she could tell he shared the same consensus.

"And…what about Noire?"

Robin hesitated before speaking. "She and I discussed this, but when I tried to inquire further as to _why_ …she…she experienced great reluctance." Robin retrieved another document from the folder. "So I proposed, rather than verbal communication, she could try expressing her thoughts and concerns on paper, and she accepted after some encouragement. But I could tell from her demeanour that it was...confronting."

Robin studied the document before turning back to them and sighing softly. "When I approached her about sharing this, she was _very_ resistant - so I promised her that I would not, and keep this information confidential." He shook his head. "Unfortunately, I must go back on my word. You're her parents, and you need to know for her safety and well-being."

He extended the paper. "I apologise, some of this may be…difficult to read."

Exchanging her attention towards her husband, Tharja was met with an equally uncertain demeanour. As Virion accepted the paper and brought it towards them, Tharja clutched his hand tightly as the two began to study the item, and the collection of words arranged made Tharja eyes widen.

' _I'm a burden.'_

 _'_ _I'm a nightmare.'_

 _'_ _I don't deserve my family or friends.'_

 _'_ _All I do is make everyone miserable.'_

 _'_ _I wish I'd never been born.'_

Tharja could not believe what she was reading. Desperately, she tried to disprove that the words belonged to her daughter but the handwriting confirmed the writer. Anxiously, she turned to her husband, and his expression mirrored hers.

Tharja and Virion knew how unforgiving Noire was on herself – a quality the two parents had come to sadly notice more frequently in her adolescence – but neither could ever have predicted to read something so heart-breaking. Studying the page further only intensified the fear and pain Tharja was experiencing; however, there was one sentence that alarmed her the most.

 _'_ _Mother never deserved a child like me.'_

Tharja hastily snatched the page to study it closer. Disillusioned and conflicted, she feverishly turned to Robin.

"What does she mean by this?"

She stared at him expectantly but all she received was an expression of reluctance.

" _Answer me_!"

Her tense posture softened upon hearing her husband's voice as he caressed her hand. She stared at Robin pleadingly, desperate for an explanation. After a moment of inactivity, he answered.

"…She doesn't believe you've ever truly accepted her."

Tharja stared in disbelief. "...What?"

"…She doesn't believe she's the daughter you expect of her."

Her breathing arrived in short, strangled sessions. "No! That's not true! I don't think that of her at all!"

" _I know_ " answered Robin, "and I tried ever so hard to reassure her that she's just overreacting and overthinking. I tried to reassure her that she's simply mistaken…", he shook his head, "…but…but she dismissed everything. She's… _insisted_ that she's a failure, a disappointment, a mistake, and all these other horrible things that simply aren't true." He whispered softly, "she doesn't believe she's deserving of your love and care – never has and never will."

As the dark, vindictive thoughts corrupted her mind, Tharja tried desperately to suppress her emotions as the layer of mist emerged under eyes. Upon feeling her husband's gentle hand invite her into an embrace, Tharja cradled him intently for support. All her suspicions were true: she _was_ a terrible parent.

* * *

"And what of myself?"

"She never mentioned anything about her father."

Tharja was relieved to hear that Virion was not an influence on their daughter's mood or behaviour; however, it only reinforced how responsible she was for the injustice.

Rubbing his wife's hand softly, Virion asked politely. "What do you advise?"

Robin retrieved another document from the folder.

"For now, the most I can do is prescribe some medicinal herbs and spices that, when combined into an elixir, will help reduce her stress and adrenaline levels." He turned to Tharja. "Do you think _you_ could produce it?"

Tharja studied the list of resources; it was a simple recipe. She nodded.

Robin acknowledged with a smile. "I'd also like to propose a monthly appointment with her to document and supervise her progress. Is that acceptable? I won't object to negotiating."

After an exchange between them, the two parents concurred and agreed to the proposal.

"As her parents, I must advise you to monitor her behaviour and attitude carefully: attend to her should she ever desire support, and if she starts displaying the same symptoms as before, it's critical that you contact me or another professional immediately."

"We will" reassured Virion firmly, "you have our word." Tharja nodded, approving his statement.

"I _know_ you will."

After a moment of reluctance, Tharja inquired further. "…Will she ever improve?"

Robin hesitated before answering. "It's…hard to say at this very moment", he smiled encouragingly, "but if you continue to be the wonderfully caring and committed parents I _know_ the both of you are, it will do wonders for her recovery."

As Virion confirmed that they would, Robin addressed Tharja with a weak smile. "She needs you now more than ever."

Understanding what he was insinuating, Tharja retrieved a tissue from the table to dry her eyes. After a short, passionate and forgiving embrace with her husband, she answered.

"Thank you…I _will_."

* * *

Arriving at the end of the hallway, Tharja observed their fragile young daughter on her feet waiting patiently for their return. But, upon making eye contact, she hastily averted her gaze.

Turning back to the gentlemen, they each greeted her with reassuring expressions. Virion nodded with a warmsmile, approving of the next action she wished to pursue. Acknowledging their proposals, Tharja caught her breath and slowly approached the young girl.

Tharja observed as Noire acknowledged and, with a flustered expression, recoiled with fear, even going so far as to step back. Her daughter's reaction only intensified the remorse and sorrow Tharja was experiencing.

Upon reaching inches apart from each other, Tharja gently placed her hands over her daughter's and cradled them, hoping ever so much to prevent discomfort. She observed Noire study the gesture before turning her attention with a breathless stare.

Almost immediately, Noire's trembling lips returned as she clutched her mother's hands tightly. In response, Tharja closed the distance and gently placed her arms around her daughter who anxiously reciprocated the embrace. Tharja cradled her daughter tightly.


	20. Every Breath You Take

No sooner than after she turned in was Noire awoken to the sound of voices downstairs. Wiping the paralysis from her eyes, the sixteen year old carefully removed the covers and silently approached her bedroom door, gently opening to listen.

Realising what she intended to do, Noire experienced an urgency to retreat back under the covers and return to sleep to prevent pursuing something she would inevitably regret. But as the voices continued to escalate, she was struggling to resist - torn between the right and wrong choices.

A sudden rise in tone made her bring a hand to her mouth in shock. Biting her lip, Noire processed her next action before electing to investigate the distressed voice. Closing the door, she summoned the utmost care and sensitivity to quietly venture down the hallway. A frail light illuminating from beneath the stairs guided her as the voices becoming increasingly louder.

"-how _else_ are we supposed to know if she _doesn't_ tell us?"

Noire winced with fear. Holding her breath, she arrived at the flight of stairs and carefully concealed herself so she wasn't visible.

"My love, please have faith in her. I _know_ should she ever feel herself regressing, she _will_ inform either one of us."

With trepidation, she carefully peered downstairs, and the breath was sucked from her when she witnessed her parents standing apart from one another. They were having a confrontation.

Throughout her life, Noire had been very fortunate to never witness her parents arguing. Despite their evident differences, they cooperated in almost perfect synergy. This meant, however, the disagreements and arguments they _did_ have were always very intense. More times than not, _she_ was the subject.

Her mother wore an anguished expression, one Noire had never witnessed before. "And what if it's a repeat of last time? What if we don't find out until it's too late?"

Upon observing her mother turn around, Noire hastily recoiled to avoid detection. How she wanted to hide – how she wanted to retreat back to her room before she was discovered for eavesdropping– but her anxiety prevented any such action. Instead, Noire held her breath and continued to listen.

"I cannot say, but I _know_ that should she ever desire professional guidance again, she _will_ inform us. I know she'll make the right choice. I believe in her."

"How…how can you be so assured? How can you say _these_ things? Aren't you-"

"I _am_. I am _just_ as frightened as you. But we cannot let our uncertainty control us from doing what needs to be done."

A moment of silence emerged. During this time, Noire stared intently at the opposite wall; she didn't want to believe what she was hearing.

"Forgive me for my insensitivity. I do not mean to insinuate I'm oblivious to the urgency and seriousness of this situation - because I am not - and I apologise for ever speaking so. I'm…I am not trying to approach this situation as an issue to be resolved –"

"And neither am I!"

Her mother's agitated tone interjected as Noire clutched her torso tightly. She really hoped their confrontation wouldn't progress any further. How she wished they wouldn't start fighting.

"From now on, she is not to leave the house without our company."

"No, you cannot enforce that kind of punishment."

"It's not a _punishment_ , it's for her protection!"

"That is not protection; _that_ is confinement! You cannot isolate her. She is our child, not our captive!"

"And what do you propose then? Because if you're _so_ eager to object, I'd love for you to share. I haven't heard so much as a single suggestion from _you,_ the tower of wisdom and insight!"

As her parents continued to adopt louder and more assertive tones to disprove and protest one another, Noire's feet finally collapsed as she migrated to the cold, hardwood surface.

Controlling her breathing, she hadn't acknowledged the deathly silence until she was treated to the sound of soft, mournful crying. Tentatively, Noire carefully investigated, and was horrified to discover her father cradling her mother against his chest. Noire stared in disbelief; she couldn't recall _ever_ seeing her mother cry.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I-"

"You have nothing to apologise for. You had _every_ right to question me. I…I have not been supportive or cooperative at all. Please, forgive me."

"No, don't say that! This is all because of _me_!"

"Tharja, you _cannot_ hold yourself responsible. If there is anybody to be held accountable for the negligence and mistreatment, I appoint myself."

"No, this isn't _your_ doing; _I'm_ the one to blame. You've always done what's right. You've _always_ been there for her; I haven't! I'm nothing but a…a reprehensible wench, an irredeemable harpy of a mother!"

Noire suppressed a strangled cry; she couldn't bear to listen to her parents speak so unforgivingly of themselves, and the pain she experienced was only reinforced by the fact that _she_ was the cause of their distress and self-loathing.

"…I'm frightened."

Her mother's soft voice dispelled the silence, followed by her father's insistent reassurance and comfort.

"There is no shame in _that_ ", Virion sighed remorsefully, "I _too_ am…uncertain…and afraid."

"What should we do?"

"…I cannot say." He hesitated. "But right now it's paramount that we continue to support and comfort her."

"A-and what if that's not enough? What if she worsens? What if she-"

Noire's entire body tensed upon releasing an audible whimper. Covering her mouth, she held her breath and prayed to the Gods above that she hadn't just announced her presence.

"Noire?"

Her entire body tensed. With saturated cheeks and a corrupted conscience, the adolescent girl anxiously retreated back down the hallway and locked her bedroom door behind her.

* * *

In a desperate pursuit to escape the inevitable confrontation, Noire buried herself beneath the bedsheets and tried to return to sleep. However, her expectations were confirmed by a gentle knock emerging from behind the door. Clutching her sheets tightly, Noire held her breath and closed her eyes.

"Noire, may we please enter?"

If it were under any other circumstance, Noire wouldn't have denied her father permission. But for that moment, she couldn't bring herself to confront him.

Another knock emerged. "Noire, will you _please_ let us in? We really need to speak with you."

The desperation in her mother's tone reverberated through Noire's already corrupted conscience.

Tentatively, she removed the bed-quilt and stared apprehensively at the door. Instinctively, the more frightened and pessimistic aspect of her being coerced her into crawling back into bed and returning to sleep. With enough inactivity, her parents may leave.

However, the dominating part of her being, the respectful and disciplined one, reinforced that she _had_ misbehaved, and that avoiding them wouldn't resolve the issue. With this attitude in mind, Noire composed herself and solemnly approached the bedroom door. With trembling hands, she hesitantly unlocked it. Noire was greeted by her parents, though their typical expressions of charisma and stoicism, respectively, were strikingly absent.

"May we please enter?" Her father asked politely.

Noire reluctantly nodded. Still regretful, she avoided their gazes and migrated back towards her bed. Holding her breath, she watched with intense apprehension as her parents slowly approached and each took a seat beside her. Noire couldn't understand why she felt so tense and afraid – they were parents, after all – but ever since her incident, she couldn't bring herself to address them as their daughter anymore.

"Did we wake you?" Virion asked, dispelling the silence.

Her first instinct was to lie and fabricate an answer to defer the blame away from them. However, Noire had come to understand the consequences for lying, and she certainly didn't want to lie to her parents, not after how supportive and understanding they'd been.

Sheepishly, Noire nodded. Her father acknowledged.

"How much did you hear?" Her mother's tone was her typical stoicism but with a trace of urgency.

Desperately, Noire shook her head. "Only a little, I swear. I'm…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have eavesdropped. I…I should have stayed in my room. I'm sorry for listening."

"There's no need to apologise", Virion whispered. "It hardly qualified as eavesdropping considering the tone we were projecting our voices at. _We_ are the ones who should be apologising. Please, forgive us. We did not mean to disturb you from your sleep. I promise you that we are _not_ upset or disappointed in you, not at all."

"B-but…I heard you yelling…about _me_."

"We didn't mean to raise our voices." Tharja reassured. "We were… _trying_ to reach a negotiable solution, but I wasn't cooperating." The dark mage folded her arms. "We've been meaning to have this discussion - about what we should do for you. About what's best for you."

"I promise", continued Virion, "our discussion was not going to be held in secrecy. Your Mother and I intended on confirming with you for your sentiments and approval before we proposed anything", he hesitated, "rash."

Noire stared with uncertainty before turning to her mother who, in response, rubbed her thigh gently.

"Anything that you wouldn't be comfortable with."

Although Noire was infinitely grateful for her parents' forgiveness and understanding, she still couldn't bring herself to accept that she deserved such care and attention, and certainly not after misbehaving.

"I…I still shouldn't have l-listened."

Her father cradled her hand. "You had every right to approach us. The manner in which we conducted that discussion was hardly civil or respectful. We _never_ meant to disturb you from your sleep. Please forgive us. We're ever so sorry we had to make you listen to us behave and converse so inconsiderately."

Not once had Noire ever witnessed her father so sorrowful, and his demeanour was reflected by her mother too. Noire couldn't stand to listen to them speak so unforgivingly about themselves considering they'd done absolutely nothing wrong.

"I'm sorry, I'm s-so…so sorry."

"Noire, don't you dare apologise", Tharja reassured seriously and assertively, "you have _nothing_ to be sorry for. This is _not_ your fault."

"How is not _my_ fault!?"

Upon witnessing her mother's frightened expression, Noire's averted her gaze.

"This is all because of me! Everything! It's because of my…s-selfish, thoughtless actions that everybody I know and love is worried about me!"

Her father squeezed her hand tightly. "My dear, please-"

"All I do is make everyone miserable. My friends, my family", she sniffled, "Grandmother." She shut her eyes tightly. "A-and now you're f-fighting…because of _me_..."

Releasing a strangled whimper, the dark, vindictive voices remerged within her mind, scolding and provoking her for her actions.

"I'm a heartless, soulless monster. I deserve this." She whispered a muffled cry between her palms. "…I'm a bastard child."

Noire's penitence was disrupted when her hand was forcefully pulled away from her face, prompting her to follow…and the expression depicted on her mother's face was one of unbelievable anguish.

"Stop this! Stop this at once! You are to _never_ repeat these horrible things again, do you understand?"

After a moment of unbearable silence and tension, she observed as her mother removed the young girl's hand before releasing a strangled exhale and averting her eyes.

"P-please don't cry, M-mother." Noire whispered anxiously.

Noire listened to her mother's heavy, methodical breathing and waited for some kind of response from the older woman. After what seemed like an eternity, Tharja gently wiped her eyelids before returning with a contrite expression.

Tharja placed a hand over her chest. "…It hurts me to hear you speak so unforgivingly about yourself."

Noire whimpered softly; she'd never meant to hurt her mother.

Relief should have been followed by the comforting sensation of her mother's warm touch but it only intensified Noire's sorrow.

"What you've said – it isn't true, not at all."

"It _is_. I'm nothing but a burden…and a torment."

"You _aren't_ , Noire."

Her father interjected, prompting Noire to turn to him. He possessed the same sincere expression.

"You _never_ have and you _never_ will be. Nobody, and I emphasise, _nobody_ will _ever_ think any lesser of you." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You are still the same compassionate and selfless young woman your friends and family love and cherish, and there is not a single thing you could ever do that will change that."

Conflicted by their words and her conscience, Noire lowered her gaze. "B-but…but I've hurt them..."

Virion shook his head. "They aren't mourning. The reason they're as distraught as they've become is only because they're deeply concerned for the young woman they love and care for. Your friends, your family – they would do anything for you. _We_ would do anything for you."

Noire whimpered. In spite of everything, she always found comfort in her father's. Sniffling softly, Noire addressed her mother, and was mesmerised to see her smiling softly, evidently approving of Virion's statement.

Although it hadn't been the first time she'd been comforted by them, Noire was still overwhelmed by her parent's tireless care and commitment. However, she instinctively knew her cooperation was paramount, and reflecting on their discussion downstairs, she understood what needed to be done.

"I will do as you wish, Mother, I won't leave the house anymore."

Tharja shook her head. "No, I never meant that. I overreacted."

"No, no, I…I understand, a-and if you want me to stay inside from now on, I will. I will respect your wishes, and-"

"No", Tharja protested pleadingly, "I will never expect you to abide by that rule, nor will I ever enforce it. I don't ever want to stop you from experiencing the world. For me to have even insinuated that proposal is…unforgivable."

Noire felt her lips tremble; she couldn't bear her mother speak so penitently. Before the young woman could object and reassure that she would fulfil her mother's request, she was silenced when Tharja unexpectedly rose to her feet.

"Please, excuse me."

And with nothing more expressed, the dark mage migrated towards the door, opened it and slowly disappeared down the hallway.

Noire watched the entire display in disbelief. Struggling to rationalise, the young girl's pessimistic, anxious mind immediately migrated to the first possible conclusion as to why her mother left.

Crying softly, Noire buried her face in her palms. "…She hates me."

Her father's desperate, reassuring words did not provide any relief or release. Her leave only reinforced Noire's suspicions: her mother _did_ despise her.

As Virion continued to cradle her against his chest, Noire's silent sobbing was suddenly halted by the creak of the door. Slowly investigating, Noire's body tensed upon witnessing her mother return, holding what appeared to be an item wrapped in dark-red fabric. Noire watched as her mother, observing the disheartened expression as the dark mage cradled the item.

"There's something I wish to show you."

Noire watched her mother carefully unwrapped the fabric…and the item beneath made Noire's pupils widen.

"This is a medallion I received from _my_ mother when I was no older than your age. She inherited it from her mother - my grandmother…or at least that's what I've been told. I cannot say whether that is entirely true or not, but it's what I choose to believe. I'd like to believe it's an artifact passed down my family through the generations - from mother to daughter."

"This medallion – it's one of my most treasured possessions, and one of the last remnants I hold of my mother…after she abandoned me. Although she and I were never especially close, I've still cherished this item very dearly, and I intend to preserve its legacy."

Tharja extended the medallion. "I want you to have it."

Noire exchange anxious and disillusioned glances between her mother and the treasure. "N-no, I…I can't accept this."

" _Yes_ , you can." Tharja spoke sincerely. "This will provide you with invaluable strength, and with it you will accomplish anything you set your heart to. You need this more than I do."

Studying the item, Noire couldn't believe her mother would offer her such a treasured item, one that she too had inherited from her parent. The medallion's legacy and history only reinforced how undeserving she felt about accepting it. However, the burning passion emanating within her heart dispelled her resistance.

Wiping her eyes, Noire gingerly accepted and carefully brought it closer for inspection. "Thank you, Mother. It's beautiful. I...will protect it, I promise."

"I _know_ you will."

Noire observed in wonderment as Tharja carefully retrieved the medallion before extending her arms and gently placing the chain around the young adult's neck.

"I would not entrust this with anybody except my daughter."

It wasn't the medallion itself that brought a cascade of tears to her eyes rather what the exchange of it symbolised: it was a gesture of love. Noire could not contain her joy.

"Surely your tirelessly committed and devoted husband is entitled to a level of trust as well, no?" Virion pouted jokingly with an expectant gaze.

Tharja answered dryly. "You're about as trustworthy as the weather service."

Virion smirked with an arched eyebrow. "So quite reliable then?"

"Fool." Tharja shook her head.

Her parents' playful teasing brought a smile to her face. Although she really shouldn't have, she found great comfort and delight in their playful ruse. She was so pleased to hear them communicate like their normal selves again.

Drying her eyes, Noire's small smile faltered as she reflected on the experience that night. In spite of the positive resolution she was so infinitely grateful for – she couldn't be more relieved and appreciative for her parents' forgiveness – she still couldn't dispel the anguish and resentment she felt towards herself for evoking such a moment of misery.

Noire whispered softly. "I'm sorry…for everything."

Virion laughed weakly as he rubbed her gently. "Must we really perform this song and dance again? _You_ have nothing to apologise for, Noire. It is _we_ who must apologise - for our insensitivity and carelessness." Nodding assertively, he extended a finger. "I declare from this day forth: any important matters of discussion shall only be conducted when all units of the house are present."

After processing his proposal, Noire nodded acceptingly with a weak smile. Tharja acknowledged as well.

"You mustn't let this experience discourage or dishearten you, Noire", Virion spoke. "These moments – they're simply the obstacles everybody in this world is presented with in life, and you are absolutely no exception." He smiled softly. "Remember, it's never the challenges themselves rather what we each must do to overcome them that _truly_ define us."

"Although we will never intend to impede or influence you - you're a young adult now, and you're more than capable of making independent decisions yourself -please remember that your Mother and I, we will never abandon you." He squeezed her hand gently. "We will be with you every step of the journey should you ever desire our guidance or support."

Holding her breath, Noire felt the waves of contentment develop beneath her eyelids once more. Ashamed for her juvenile expressions of affection, Noire closed her eyes and tried to suppress her emotions as her parents cradled her tightly.

"I _know_ you are destined to achieve many things, Noire", spoke Tharja, "many extraordinary things." The dark mage scoffed apologetically. "You aren't like me - you're a strong, capable and compassionate young woman who would never let a simple moment of misdirection discourage her from pursuing her dreams. We…we could not be more delighted to see our young girl blossom into such a beautiful woman."

Noire whimpered softly. "You're not…d-disappointed in me?"

Tharja shook her head. "No. You make us proud each and every day."

Turning to her father, she was greeted with a passionate smile from him, nodding affirmatively. "We will overcome this together - as a family."

Overwhelmed by their words, Noire couldn't begin to express her appreciation as she desperately tried to process everything she was hearing. Returning to her mother, Noire felt her body tense as Tharja migrated from caressing her hand softly with her thumb to gently cupping the young girl's cheek.

"We love you ever so much."

Staring breathlessly, Noire observed the faint layer of mist beneath her mother's eyelids. She could never have predicted to hear her mother profess something like that – something she had always secretly wished for: approval and acceptance. Actually hearing it evoked a feeling of joy Noire had yet to experience.

Completely overwhelmed by their professions of care and commitment, Noire couldn't restrain herself and erupted into tears. It was all she could ever have wished to hear that night after everything she had done.

Expressing herself had never been her strongest quality – and certainly not through verbal communication – but as the emotionally overwhelmed and enraptured young woman profusely cried her tears of contentment, her parents, the two individuals she loved with all heart and soul more so than any other, cradled her intimately.

A strangled but passionate whisper emerged from her trembling lips, perfectly capturing everything she wished to express.

"…I love you too."

* * *

 **Thank you ever so much to everybody that has taken the time to read these stories, and an extra special thank you to everybody that has 'favourited', 'followed' and written reviews. I hope you've all enjoyed reading these as much I've enjoyed writing them.**

 **Although I had intended to conclude with this chapter, there are still several ideas involving these characters that I would very much like to explore and write about. So, potentially, this chapter may not remain the last. If users are still willing to read my work, I'd be more than pleased to continue writing more. (Or at least until I use the entire discography of _The Police_.)**


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